Please Never Leave This Bed
by LazyWriterGirl
Summary: Emily Fields knows Quinn Fabray like the back of her hand. Not that she knows what Quinn does when she sneaks out of bed. Or what it is that has her beautiful girlfriend silent and in tears night after night. So maybe Emily doesn't know the blonde as well as she thought. Truth hurts. Deal. Rated T to be safe. If you're not into slash/femslash I'd suggest not reading.
1. The Mystery

**A/N: Hey all! This is just a little piece I did for a friend. Thought I'd post it since I haven't been active in about a half a year and all of my stories were taken down previously (by me). Want to get back into the swing of things now that there's only a month and a half of school left. I used my random fandom pairing dice (swing by my profile if you want to know about the dice) to decide the pairing. Crossover Emily Fields from PLL and Quinn Fabray from Glee. AUish in which Quinn is living in Rosewood and A has been done and over with for about a year. I just don't give too many shiitakes about canon in this, but we'll see what happens. Un-Betaed cuz… yeah.**

**Disclaimer: Since my name is neither Marlene nor Ryan it's pretty safe to say that I don't own PLL or Glee. But if I did. Ohhh if I did.**

_I don't know your face no more_

_Or feel your touch that I adore_

_I don't know your face no more_

_It's just a place I'm looking for_

_ ~ Keane, We Might As Well Be Strangers_

* * *

The bed dips lower and Emily can feel warmth, a delicate hand rubbing lazy circles on her back as Quinn attempts to get under the covers without disturbing the brunette. It's the third time this week that Emily has fallen asleep in her girlfriend's arms, only to be roused when the other girl slowly extracts her lithe form from the bed. She stays awake and more than vaguely worried until Quinn comes back, and even then she can't return to dreamland. _Where does her girlfriend go?_ Emily can only hope that it isn't anything dangerous and knowing Quinn, it probably isn't. She's almost certain that the shorter girl doesn't leave the house because if anything, her mother would certainly wake up at the sound of the door opening and come to check up on them. A slender arm drapes over Emily's stomach as she struggles with this Quinn-getting-out-of-bed-and-not-coming-back-for-hours situation. It's certainly a mystery, and even though Emily is sick of anything even vaguely mysterious by now – she barely enjoys games like Clue anymore – she doesn't jump to any conclusions. The whole mess with A last year has definitely taught her a bit about patience, the downside to confrontations, and a whole barrelful of other things in general. It would be best to let Quinn come to her, which Emily was certain she would do if there was a problem.

At the soft sound of sniffing Emily turns in the blonde's grip, surprised to find hazel eyes open and teary. "Are you alright Quinn? Is everything okay?" Her voice sounds so soft in the dark, a feather of concern fluttering towards the blonde. Emily feels Quinn's shaky breathplay across her face.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Go back to sleep Em, you have swim practice in the morning." The lighter girl tries for a smile in the dark, or at least Emily thinks it was supposed to be a smile. All she can really see is a wall of ivory-white teeth and pink lips pulled back.

"I love you, Quinn." She snuggles into the blonde, waiting for her to say "I love you, too". The next few minutes pass in silence and Emily can't help but pull back a little, embarrassed and upset. For an awful moment Quinn looks completely indifferent to everything; to Emily, to their relationship, to anything that isn't what she's so lost in thought over. When still more silence assaults her ears in waves the swimmer turns her back to her girlfriend. She briefly contemplates crying over the snub but she isn't five years old and it isn't (or so she tells herself) a huge deal. Maybe she didn't say it loud enough. Maybe Quinn is just so tired that she tuned out for a minute. Maybe the ex-Cheerio said it as she was turning over and it got drowned out in the rustling of bed sheets. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

"Emily." Her name sounds harsh when accompanied by the semi-frustrated sigh that follows, like it doesn't belong on the tongue of the person who'd just said it. Tears are straining against the corners of her eyes and while Emily is a big girl she just _really_ doesn't like these feelings right now. A rattling sigh escapes past her lips and just as she thinks she's going to lose it and make herself look like a child, Quinn is leaning over her. On instinct she eases back towards the ex-head-cheerleader and is greeted by soft lips ghosting over her shoulder. The bed dips a bit more as the shorter of the two pushes herself up a little so that she can apply a light pressure to the sensitive spot near the shell of Emily's ear. When Quinn shifts again, it's to lavish her girlfriend with butterfly kisses, an unspoken "I love you" gracing the swimmer's neck with every gentle press of Quinn's mouth to her skin. This is repentant Quinn, a side of the usually composed blonde that Emily secretly loves. The brunette turns to face the blonde and tilts her face downwards slowly, until those soft lips she loves make contact with her own. It's enough to let Emily know that she shouldn't ever doubt how Quinn feels. Enough to keep her happy, yet that doesn't explain why her lips taste of salt once Quinn's lips leave hers.

_Her_ Quinn doesn't cry. At least, not without telling Emily why she's crying. This isn't her Quinn.

_But then whose Quinn is she, exactly?_

**A/N: Hm, well that's shorter than I thought it would be. Don't know if I'll continue this or not. Should I? Lemme know! If you don't wanna review, contact me on twitter (check out my profile for the handle, dear bros. and ladybros.) Kay I'm done. Bye.**


	2. Santana's Message

**A/N: Never thought I'd see such a swell in fans… ha-ha, okay sarcastic joke for the day is done now. MUCH LOVE TO YOU GUYS WHO SUBSCRIBED AND/OR FAVOURITED ME/THIS STORY **** You guys rock my toe socks. I decided that since you subscribed, it would only be fair to continue, so you've got at least two more chapters of this to wait around for (assuming interest stays at where it is) See ya after the chapter, lovelies **

**And before I forget, an extra special thank you (for the reviews) to:**

**natnay44: Here we are, continuing as per your suggestion :) **

**MySongsKnowWhatYouDidInTheDa rk: I'm glad you like it! I think Quinn and Emily are definitely interesting together **** As for what's going on with Quinn, well… ;)**

**Disclaimer: I sit around all day and type out fanfiction for characters that have never met and live in different states. Don't own them. Hate myself every day for it, but it's true. **

* * *

_If I'm gonna tell it than I gotta tell it all_

_Damn near cried when I got that phone call_

_ Usher, Confessions Part II_

Quinn's hand brushes the side of the bed that Emily had occupied moments ago, the soft fabric already growing cooler from the absence of the swimmer's body. Emily is in the shower, probably singing. She never would admit it, but Emily Fields is a concert queen under her showerhead. Quinn grins, then groans as she realises that it's only five thirty and so _why_ is she awake? Oh, right. Emily has to go to an early swim practice and Quinn has decided she'll go to the library to start browsing through secondary sources for her English paper. Not that the library opens until seven but hey, she'll get to watch her girlfriend in action – mind out of the gutter now, Quinn – and that's always a good thing. Quinn digs her toothbrush out of her overnight bag and saunters down the hall to the guest bathroom. When she gets back she sits at Emily's vanity and starts to brush her hair. It's shoulder length again but she can't decide if she wants to cut it.

"Hey, look who's awake. I thought you'd go back to sleep." At the sound of Emily's voice – husky and sweet, not unlike her own – Quinn's fatigue slowly melts away. Left in its place is something a little different. It's like a ball of fluffy nothing that she imagines must look a little something like JBI's fro. _Gross_, she thinks, and the thought of the Rachel-obsessed blogger quells the growing feeling of whatever-it-is that has settled down in the bottom of her stomach. Her phone rings and it seems too early to be taking calls, so she silences it with a flick of her fingers without bothering to check who it is. When she looks up from her phone she feels Emily's gaze more than sees it out of her peripheral vision and vaguely wonders why it is that Emily hasn't started to dress herself. One long, tan leg catches her eye and Quinn briefly wishes that it isn't noticeable when she has to swallow a sudden buildup of saliva.

"I decided to get to school early. Maybe try to get some work done," Quinn says coolly, trying to hide the quiver that for some reason is threatening to issue forth from her lips. She turns to face Emily and the next words (she doesn't even know what she was going to say) get caught in her throat. Her breath catches, and now she can identify what it was that had her feeling so _funny_, for lack of a better word. It's lust, pure lust (she _loves_ Emily, but Quinn is a teenager for crying out loud) and if anything it's only getting more and more compelling by the second. All that Quinn can see is Emily Fields. Emily Fields with her hair down and wet. Emily Fields with her hair down and wet, clothed in nothing but a towel. A towel, Quinn might add, that is loosely wrapped around her girlfriend's athletic frame, showing off generous amounts of leg and those strong swimmer's shoulders that Quinn loves so much. Emily can barely get a word out about how Quinn's plan is very much a "Spencer thing" before the blonde is on her. Being the shorter of the two, Quinn latches her arms around her girlfriend's neck, ignoring the fact that Emily's hair is still wet. The taller girl is slightly taken aback by the sudden passion but, thankful for the attention (especially after she felt Quinn leave the bed for a second time last night) she pulls away only to shut her bedroom door. Emily ends up on top of her gorgeous ex-cheerleader girlfriend, still swathed in a towel. She can feel delicate hands caressing her thighs and wants dearly to get lost in the moment but _fuck_ it's already five forty-five and she has to be at school in half an hour.

"Quinn, babe, we can't," she says breathily. Quinn pouts up at her like a kitten that got sprayed with a hose.

"Please Em?" Emily shakes her head. She can see the darkened hazel of Quinn's eyes and it turns her on to the point where if they don't stop right now she's going to find herself missing morning practice but getting wet anyways.

"Baby we really can't. Trust me there is nothing I'd rather do but if Coach doesn't see me at practice I'm going to be in trouble with my mom. You know how she is," Emily says, toying with the button on the blonde's shorts as she speaks. Quinn looks down at the other girl's hands with a smirk.

"Okay, fine, I get it." Emily lets out a sigh that sounds like the love child of relieved and frustrated. "You can't be late to practice. But babe, you'd better get off of my lap before I completely lose control."

"You find me that irresistible, huh?" Emily can't help but tease. It isn't every day that Quinn "I-swear-she's-practically-a-goddess" Fabray essentially says that you've got some sort of power over her. The aforementioned girl props herself up onto her elbows and kisses the grin off Emily's face.

"God, you have _no _idea baby," she breathes. Emily giggles and rolls off of the girl who taps her butt gently.

"You know, you're pretty damn sexy yourself," the normally-much-less-forward swimmer says with a wink. It's a miracle that they manage to be fully dressed and on their way to school in ten minutes. Quinn's phone has by now rung at least three times. She turns it off.

* * *

"Somebody seems really happy," Aria comments with a smile as Emily puts her phone back in her pocket. Quinn will be joining them soon; her drama teacher just wanted to praise her performance on their latest assignment, offer a few pointers. Spencer nods her agreement, not looking up from the book she's been peering at for the past ten minutes.

"I would be too if I were dating somebody _that_ gorgeous," Hanna chimes in. Emily can't help but crack a smile. "Not to mention having the ability to tap that whenever, which I assume you did this morning, yeah, Em?" Leave it to Hanna to say something like that. The swimmer raises her hands in mock offence, laughing lightly as Spencer and Aria look on in amusement.

"Hanna! We didn't!" She insists, trying to maintain some sense of decorum and failing miserably when Quinn appears at her side.

"We were pretty damn close though baby," Quinn says in a stage whisper, causing Emily to feel the heat of a blush racing over her cheeks. Hanna starts up again with some quips about Emily's "raging sex-drive", earning some laughs from everybody. The rest of lunch is all playful banter like this, and everything is going so perfectly well that it's almost enough to make Emily forget about Quinn's puzzling late-night excursions. For now she's content to just soak in her friends' laughter as she watches Quinn's thumb running over her knuckles softly. She doesn't catch the constricted half-smile that Quinn's mouth slips into when she thinks nobody else is looking.

* * *

The good mood holds up until after dinner. Quinn is helping Pam Fields with the dishes when she feels her phone vibrate in her pocket, having turned it on before the older brunette had requested assistance at the sink. Whoever it is trying to contact her, they're insistent. Multiple text messages are sent through to her phone as she continues drying the dishes and chatting with Pam about university applications. When she's thanked and sent off, the ex-Cheerio scrolls through her missed calls. She's surprised to find that all three of the calls from that morning – and there are a few more calls, all scattered throughout the day – are from Santana. With some trepidation she looks through her texts. There are just about eighteen from Santana, all practically demanding that Quinn "Call me" in some form or other (except for the last one. That one just reads, "God-fucking-damnit Fabray").

"You okay?" Emily asks when Quinn stumbles into Emily's bedroom looking like a panic-stricken mother of a teenage boy during WWII conscription. The blonde nods her response and out of her mouth comes something that sounds vaguely like, "Yeah, just gotta make a call."

Quinn locks herself in the guest room (not like anybody uses it) and dials Santana's number. The Latina picks up on the first ring and this worries Quinn more than anything. Santana always lets it ring for a while.

"San, what's up?" Quinn tries to keep it neutral, determined not to jump to conclusions but having thousands of them ready to leap out of her throat. She's been spending a bit too much time with Spencer.

"Quinn, remember how Shelby was in a car accident last week?" Quinn nods even though she knows her friend can't see her. How can she forget? It's only been bothering her to the point of insomnia for at least three nights the past week.

"Is everything okay San?"

"I think… Q, you should come home."

"Why?" Quinn doesn't know if she wants the answer.

"I'll tell you more when you get here."

"Santana I don't understand why you can't just tell me over the phone. Is everything okay? How is Shelby? How about -"

"For fuck's sake Q, just come home! As soon as possible. She needs you."

"Who needs me? Santana? Santana!" There's a low hum followed by a dial tone and she wants to kick at the door in anger. Of _course_ Santana would have let her phone die. Quinn is scared now, and it's clear on her face as she slips back into Emily's room and gets under the covers without a word. When the brunette gently asks who she had spoken to Quinn turns away from her and mumbles, "It was Santana." Emily doesn't pry any further, just pulls Quinn's body towards her and drops a kiss on the blonde's neck. Quinn waits until her girlfriend is asleep before slipping out, careful to leave a note on the girl's bedside table before she goes. It's eleven. She just needs to talk to her mom. They could be in Lima as early as five thirty tomorrow morning if they leave soon.

* * *

**A/N: And we'll stop there for now. Sorry if this was a bit hard to follow, but I'm unbeta-ed so… yeah. You may notice a slight alteration to the style of writing, and this is simply because now I'm writing a story and not just a short thing that my friend just wanted to see on paper. :) Every review = me loving you that much more. Oh and if you want to give me feedback elsewhere, follow me on twitter LazyWriterGirl. You could leave me prompts, ask me questions… anything. Currently following: 2 and followed by: 0. Bye loves, go off and do lovely things… lovingly. We're picking up the pace now.**


	3. Questions

**A/N: Here we are, chapter three **** I just have to say to you all, THANK YOU so much for following this story. I know it isn't a hugely popular ship, and that it isn't exactly a widespread crossover in general, but the fact that you're interested is so unbelievably encouraging. I can't even begin to thank you for the follows/favourite/etc. Sorry for the wait! I'll try not to make this one of those stories where you have no idea when to expect an update. If not weekly, at least once every two weeks, I hope. I'm trying to do better, and come mid-April I can promise you it will work out to at least one update a week **

**Shout-outs to:**

**Alex the Guest: Hi there Alex, glad you like it so far!  
loveheather: Hi! Sorry, I was thinking of PMing you to answer your question but I think maybe an update is an even better way to do so, don't you? Not long now before some answers begin to pop up.**

**hRcK1224: I'm glad you like it! Here's the next chapter **

**shayrhin10: As per request, updated! **

**Disclaimer: Yeah, I own them, which is why this is a fanfic and not canon, duh… fine, so I don't own them.**

* * *

_The trouble with love is_

_It can tear you up inside_

_Make your heart believe a lie_

_It's stronger than your pride_

_ Kelly Clarkson, The Trouble With Love Is_

Emily likes to think that she isn't a super jealous/possessive/protective girlfriend. She never begs for Quinn to spend more time with her than the blonde feels like (unless either of them is sick, that's a completely different story), and she never once dared to go through her girlfriend's e-mails, texts, or Facebook. Emily likes to think – fuck that, she's positive – that Quinn knows that she can come to her for advice, support, _love_, whatever she needs. So why is it that Emily woke up this morning to find half of her bed frigid and no gorgeous blonde kissing her awake? She hasn't moved much since waking up to find that Quinn has been gone (for what must have been ages). The blonde's phone and overnight bag have disappeared too, so Emily knows that her girlfriend isn't in the bathroom or downstairs.

Thing is, it's Saturday and the girls are coming over so that they can all go for a girl's day out (except for Aria, she's at some gathering that Ezra invited her to weeks ago) and so really Quinn probably just went home and didn't want to wake her up. Emily brushes her teeth and begins to get dressed, throwing on a pair of skinny jeans and a tank top before pausing at her mother's voice.

"Emily! Spencer and Hanna are here!" Pam calls from the main floor. The calmness of her tone suggests that nothing is wrong so Emily relaxes, thinking that surely Quinn must have just left to get dressed and is going to be back any minute now. There's the light thudding of multiple footsteps as Spencer and Hanna ascend the stairs and then there's a small _bang!_ as the door flies open and there they are sitting on her bed. A question Emily is for some reason dreading pops out of Hanna's mouth.

"Where's Quinn? I figured at this time you would be awake and," at this Hanna makes a kissing noise, "you know." The blonde's blue eyes twinkle in their usual pixie-ish manner.

"Oh be quiet Hanna, leave Emily alone," Spencer admonishes the girl fondly. "But really, Em, where is she? I thought she slept over last night?" The tanned girl doesn't respond, instead turning to brush her hair, thinking up some sort of excuse although really, she's sure there's no need to.

"I'm _sure_ they slept, Spence," Hanna says, like she just can't help herself. Her eyes widen as she sees the look on Emily's face. "Sorry Em. Really though, where is she?"

"She went back home to change first." Emily isn't sure why she says it since she doesn't actually know where Quinn is right now, but that satisfies Hanna and Spencer. They dawdle for a few minutes and Spencer suggests calling Quinn right before the slip of paper on Emily's bedside table catches her eye. The curious scholar grabs at it and notes that the writing on the note is small and rushed, but undoubtedly Quinn's. Emily takes the paper from her friend gingerly and reads it.

_Going back to Lima. Don't know when I'll be back. Will call if possible. – Quinn_

"Why the hell did she need to go back to Lima?" Hanna doesn't really notice that Emily looks like she wants to throw up.

"Shh, Han, stop. Emily? You okay?" Spencer starts to rub Emily's back softly and Hanna snuggles into the tall brunette even though there doesn't _seem_ to be a real problem. Emily is glad for the comfort but she really shouldn't be acting like this. The note is a little terse, and much too brief, and Quinn didn't say "I love you" or anything remotely sweet; that in itself is unsettling. It's not that that Emily is most worried about though. It's more the fact that Quinn is back in Lima right now without her, and, from the looks of it, stressed or faced with an unpleasant situation. The swimmer wonders what it could have possibly been that forced Quinn out of bed, back to her house, into Mama Fabray's car, and across the state -border, all the way back to Lima, Ohio. Quinn was fine last night, she thinks; quiet maybe, but still fine. Nothing happened that could have made her do something so drastic. But wasn't there something? She seemed a bit shaken after the phone call with Santana.

"Em? Emily did you hear me?" Spencer's husky voice sounds half-panicked, half-calm. Emily turns to train brown eyes on her friend as the Ivy-league-level-intelligent girl repeats what she's said at least three times by now. "Emily, come on. Let's go out. Do what we planned. If Quinn doesn't call at all during the day we'll call her when we're at my house."

"Okay." It's the only thing that she can think of saying. Too much is happening far too quickly and Emily doesn't like the feeling of it. She doesn't understand what's going on and it feels like she's in one of those horror movies that she always tries to make Quinn watch. The main character is thrown into the middle of a mystery and all of a sudden people are disappearing and there are dead bodies everywhere and… well, fine, so it's only Quinn and Judy Fabray who've "disappeared", and they haven't really, the girls know where they are. And then again, there are no dead bodies around. So really, Emily should just relax and have fun and that's exactly what she tells herself she's going to do as she blows her mother a kiss and is pulled out of the front door by a surprisingly quiet Hanna.

* * *

The movie that Hanna and Spencer have been pushing to see is a Disney film, something about bubbles and James Franco being a con-man and holy hell is Rachel Weisz a super-hot older woman or what? and while it definitely amuses Hanna and even wins quite a number of smiles and chuckles Spencer, Emily can't seem to focus at all. Sure, she manages to catch a glimpse of seductive eyes from Mila Kunis and even some cute little winged monkey thing, but that's about all.

"That was good! I mean, the plot was a bit shaky and weak at times, but it was carried well by the actors and I really liked how it looked. It was beautiful! Don't you think so Emily? Em?" Hanna has to poke her four times before the tall girl looks down and notices that she's being spoken to.

"What? Yeah, yeah, it was a beautiful movie, Han." Hanna clearly isn't buying her bullshit and scoffs.

"Well thanks Polly. Want a cracker?" Emily laughs at that. She should really learn that simply parroting responses won't suffice. "Let's go get some food!" Spencer laughs as well, and Emily very briefly forgets that there's a swarm of butterflies flitting about in her stomach.

* * *

"Okay, she hasn't called you all day, go on," Spencer says when they've returned to the Hastings' residence and are all spread out on Spencer's bed. Emily doesn't need prompting twice. She presses down on the number that's been assigned to Quinn's cell number and waits as it rings. Once, twice, it gets to the point where Emily is praying that Quinn will answer.

"Hi Emily, sorry for not calling," Quinn's voice husks through the receiver on the tenth ring. Concern puts Emily beside herself as she takes in the sound of her girlfriend's voice. The blonde on the other end sounds tired, beaten down, like she's trekked through hell and back since leaving Emily's bed last night, but also oddly distant, almost dismissive. The swimmer almost wants to be angry with her; she was so worried and got herself all bothered over the blonde, and all that Quinn can do is apologize for not calling like as if she were apologizing for coming late to a party. Like as if Emily was bothersome.

"Yeah, don't worry about it," Emily says, and it surprises her, to say the least. She's not happy, and she'd been half-expecting something regrettable to issue forth from her lips. "Are you alright, Quinn?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just had to deal with something in Lima. I'll be home in a week or two. Mom should be getting back just about now, I told her to just leave me here for a while."

"What are you dealing with, Quinn?" Emily is starting to feel uneasy and from the looks on Hanna's and Spencer's faces the emotions are playing out on her face in real-time. "And why do you need to be in Lima for so long? Do you have somewhere to stay?"

"I'll be fine. I'm staying with Brittany and so is Santana." Quinn sounds irritated, and when Emily hears a shuffling in the room she tenses. There's somebody else wherever Quinn is, somebody who by the sounds of it is commanding more of the blonde's attention than Emily can. "It's nothing, don't worry about it, I'll be home in a week or two like I said. I have to go," Quinn says quickly. A beeping noise reaches Emily's ears and she drops her phone on the bed. It bothers her that the blonde seems to be hiding something. And she didn't even say "I love you".

"Em? Is everything okay?" Hanna asks. Emily shrugs and the eyebrow Spencer is raising at her just reminds her of Quinn so much that she frowns a little.

"She said she has to do something in Lima for a week or so, nothing important."

"You alright?" Spencer doesn't seem to believe that that's all there is to it, but Emily nods all the same.

"Yeah… So… tell me exactly what I missed during the movie earlier?" She's floundering for any sort of topic that will bring them away from Quinn and Lima and, more specifically, what Quinn is doing in Lima. Spencer begins a diatribe on the slight sexist undertones of Oz the something or other as Hanna begins to gush about how pretty everything and everyone was. _Bzzt, bzzt! _Before focusing her attention on the two, Emily briefly glances down and sees a text message from Quinn.

_**Sorry I was rude to you, baby. I just have a lot going on here at the moment. I promise I'll be home in a week, two weeks tops, and then I'll tell you all about it. I love you Emily.**_

Said girl smiles. Quinn will explain everything when she comes home, so now there's no reason to worry about anything. Quinn will come home and everything will be okay. Right?

**A/N: And that is where we shall leave off for now, my lovelies. I know that this chapter may be a tad difficult to understand, but that's intentional, promise. I wanted you to get that disjointed feeling that Emily carries around with her for the day. As always, I give more love and affection to those who review and for the love of all that is chocolate would somebody please follow me on Twitter? I made an account JUST for my FanFiction friends and so far I'm following two accounts and have no followers… You could prompt me there *wink, wink* and just chat or whatever… Okay I'll stop begging. Bye loves, this has been Kay with your weekly dose of completely random crossover slash. **


	4. Skype

**A/N: I don't know how to thank you for following this story… Not to say that I'm running out of steam buuut… kind of running out of steam at the moment. Oh well, we'll see how much longer this lasts. Read on, dears, this is, as always, for you **** (**

**Disclaimer: All I own is a farm right smack-dab in the middle of Texas. FINE, SO I DON'T OWN A FARM SMACK-DAB IN THE MIDDLE OF TEXAS. I own nothing **

_We can't stop the world_

_But there's so much more that we could do_

_You can't stop this girl_

_From falling more in love with you_

_ ~ Demi Lovato, Stop the World_

Brittany's room is just as friendly-looking as Quinn remembers, and though she'll be glad to go back home in a few days, she's going to miss spending time with the other blonde and Santana. She's grateful for the fact that they've managed to hold on to the Unholy – though arguably much nicer now than ever – Trinity. Quinn Fabray is grateful for a lot of things. She's grateful for her mother who, after losing her way several times to her ex-husband's blind self-righteousness and the allures of alcohol, has found her way back to the forefront of her daughter's life. Judy Fabray has grown as a human being, and become the woman that Quinn always wished her to be. Quinn is also grateful for her Lima, Ohio family. Rachel, her once-enemy, now a dear, dear friend. Mike, Tina, Mercedes, Kurt, Finn, Puck, Sam, Joe, Sugar, Rory and Artie, her friends. Santana and Brittany, the other two pieces of the Unholy Trinity. Beth and Shelby. Even Mr. Schue, Emma, Sue, and Coach Beiste. She loves them all, and is glad that despite her distance from them, they will always love her and wish her well in her endeavors. She wishes the same for each of them.

Quinn is grateful for her new home in Rosewood, Pennsylvania. She is grateful for Spencer, Aria, and Hanna, who have all become a part of her. They are the greatest friends she could have asked for (aside from her Lima family, of course). Quinn is grateful for all the rest in her life too; the strong mind she's been given, her beauty, the lovely home, the food, the continued use of her legs, and even things like the slight pain in her back when she had been lying down for too long.

Yes, Quinn is so, so grateful for all of these things. She is most grateful however, for one Emily Fields, the young woman she is almost certain she wants to spend the rest of her life with. Wait. What? Quinn sits bolt upright and she can hear Brittany's concerned voice and Santana's "I"ll-pretend-I'm-not-concerned" one. They're asking if she's alright. Yes, she's fine, she thinks. But what is she doing thinking about marrying Emily? They've not been dating for so long that that's an option, not to mention their age and _is that even legal in Pennsylvania?_ And besides, there's school to consider and they have to get into good colleges. As if the two share thoughts, Quinn finds that Santana's laptop is open to a list of out-of-state post-secondary institutions. Quinn personally has her heart set on Yale, or Harvard, or maybe even NYU. She wants to do dramatic theatre, or perhaps even try her hand at creative writing or psychology. Maybe go to law school further down the road. Emily wants to go to U of Michigan, of which Michael Phelps is the most fames alumni, or perhaps Auburn or Drury University, both of which have produced several gold medalists for the American Women's Swim Teams of recent years.

_Not to mention, you've not told her yet about Beth. _Quinn curses the little voice in the back of her head. No, she hasn't yet told Emily about Beth. Oh God. Beth. A mania overcomes the blonde and she's outside of herself with grief. Beth, Shelby, and Rachel are all alone in that dark hospital, all alone and waiting for Quinn to come. To come in and light up their room with her smile and her stories of Rosewood. Hurriedly, Quinn is springing off of the futon and getting dressed before Santana realizes what she plans on doing. The Latina plants herself firmly in front of Quinn as the blonde shimmies into a plain blue sundress. "No, Quinn. No. Stay here. The hospital is not letting anybody visit at this time, you know that." Santana is being as gentle as she can without actually being well, gentle, but Quinn is already so incensed that there is no calming her through conventional means.

"I have to see her, Santana. I have to. All of them! This is all my fault!"

"Shut up Fabray, it isn't your fault and you should stop beating yourself up about it before I beat you up for keeping me awake!" The sincerity of the threat has a visible effect on the blonde who immediately ceases to move. At least, most of her body ceases to move. Her shoulders begin to bounce and there are tears steadily dropping down, down to Brittany's plushy off-white rug where they form a darker puddle at her feet. Within seconds she's crying heavily, and the ex-Cheerio feels herself being pulled into Brittany's warm arms. Santana, she notes through the waterfalls of her eyes, is hanging back, but soon enough throws her own darker arms around the sobbing blonde. The trio sink back onto Brittany's bed softly.

"Don't cry Q. Lord Tubbington might think you're going crazy. He'd send you to live in his slums." Brittany is looking pointedly at her cat as she says this, and Quinn laughs, tucking her head into her neck a little more as a means of choking out the joyous noise. _Bad idea_, now her tears have swam down to spoil the beauty of her pretty dress. She most definitely can't go out now.

"Honestly Q, calm down. They're going to be okay, remember? Doctor said so. The worst is over now, Q." Santana has never been the one to calm things down, and so it strikes Quinn that this is odd. She doesn't care about that now though; the comforting words spilling from the Latina's pout are precious, and she uses them as reinforcement that everything will be okay.

"I'll go get you some water Q… and there's some left over bacon in the fridge. Want it? It was supposed to be Lord Tubbington's, but he's getting really fat and needs to diet." Brittany is already getting up, and with a kind smile she reaches down to smooth a few hairs back from Quinn's teary face. Santana smiles at her girlfriend as she exits the room before turning her attention back to Quinn.

"Santana, I'm so stupid."

"No you are not. What happened to Shelby, Rachel, and Beth was an accident. You didn't mean for it to happen and you didn't cause it. For fuck's sake, Q!" Santana's voice may not portray much kindness, but the gentle circular motion she's rubbing in to Quinn's back is definitely soothing. They've always worked this way, Quinn thinks, and she's glad for it. Tough love is probably the only thing that will get her out of this rut. She acknowledges the fact that, first of all, she didn't mean for Shelby and her daughters to get into that stupid accident. She hadn't even known that they were in the car at all, and had just called to ask Shelby if there was going to be a big party for Beth's third birthday later in the year.

Even so, she can't stop thinking about what had happened. It's been almost three weeks.

_ "Hello?Quinn?"_

_ "Hi Shelby."_

_ "It's nice to hear from you, what's— The sound of beeping car horns and metal grinding against metal fills Quinn's ears and she's panicked beyond belief. The line goes dead soon afterwards and Quinn is left to sit on Emily's bed and stare at the phone. What the fucking hell?! Did Shelby just get into a car accident? Oh my god. Quinn is assaulted by guilt, she should have never called. She should have known that Shelby would pick up the phone if she were to see Quinn's name flash up on the caller id._

_ "Quinn, what's wrong?" Emily asks when she walks back in. Quinn wipes the shock and terror off of her face and is cut off from saying anything when she feels the brunette in front of her capture her lips in a kiss. Under any other circumstance, Quinn would forget about everything and focus all of her attentions on expressing her love for the gorgeous girl who's practically straddling her. But she can't. She can't because she just heard a car crash involving the woman who adopted her baby. And she's scared shitless. "Baby?"_

_ "I'm sorry babe, I'm just so tired." Quinn says lamely. In response, Emily shrugs, clearly displeased but not about to question anything. She knows how much Quinn wants to get into an Ivy League school. To make it up to her somewhat dejected girlfriend, Quinn pats Emily's side of the bed and the two slip under the covers, ready to snuggle to sleep. Except that Quinn can't sleep, and soon Emily's shallow breathing can be heard through the room. Her phone starts to buzz and she picks it up without thinking. "Hello?"_

_ "Q? It's me, San." _

_ "Hey San."_

_ "Quinn. Shelby was in an accident. We're all at the hospital."_

_ "Oh my god, I know. Is she alright? Is she hurt?"_

_ "You knew? Quinn… I wish I wasn't the one to have to tell you this but… Shelby's in critical condition."_

_ "Oh my god."_

_ "That's not all… Quinn, Rachel and Beth are here too. They were in the car. Apparently they weren't too badly scratched up though, but…" The rest of the Latina's sentence falls on deaf ears. Quinn is up and out of bed so quickly that the slight squeak of the mattress cuts off what Santana is saying. It's the first time that Quinn leaves Emily alone in bed. She goes down to the living room and curls up in Emily's favourite armchair. She cries._

"Do you remember when you told me that Rachel and Beth were hurt too?" Quinn has stopped crying too badly now.

"Yeah. You didn't say anything after that. I thought you'd hung up on me." Santana says. The blonde gulps back some air and smiles at Brittany when she re-enters the room and places a plate of bacon and a glass of water down in front of her.

"I got out of bed for the first time in my relationship with Emily and cried. I cried for a good three hours, San. And I felt like shit." Brittany frowns at the thought of one of her best friends being so upset, and gives Quinn one last hug before turning to Santana's laptop. Quinn needs to talk to somebody better at handling situations like this, maybe Tina, so the taller blonde goes to open up Santana's Skype. "I did that for three nights in one week… and then again the night that I called you and you told me to come back."

"Q…"

"God, Santana, I don't know what to do. I have to tell Emily about why I came back. But I can't. How can I tell her about Beth?"

"It's easy. Just tell her. Rip the band-aid off. I'm sure she'll understand."

"But I don't want to hurt her, S. I've been lying to her for a while now. I can't bear to think of losing her."

"Look, Q." the Latina turns to her girlfriend who seems to be talking to somebody on video chat. _Oh well then, gotta do this on your own Lopez_. "You couldn't bear it if you lost Beth either. And you nearly did. But Rachel and Beth are safe now and you owe it to your girl to tell her what was so important that it forced you out of bed and out of the state all in a matter of one night."

"I'm so glad. I love Beth so much. The thought of losing her terrifies me. And I love Emily… but she'll hate me if I tell her now, S."

"No she won't." Quinn sighs, knowing that it's a lost cause to argue with the Latina when she knows she's right. With a quick glance at her phone she notes that it's still pretty early. Emily won't be in bed for a while yet. She shoots the other girl a quick text message.

_**Hey baby, can I talk to you about something?**_

The response is not at all what she'd have expected. It's dripping with hurt and sarcasm and sounds like something that Santana would say. Not something that Emily would ever say.

_**I don't think you need to say anything, Quinn. I heard you talking to Santana about this Beth girl. If you're cheating on me with her… or worse, if I'm the "mistress" here… just save it. I don't want to talk to you. Glad to hear that Rachel and her mom are ok. Thank you for letting me know about the important events in your life.**_

"How the hell could she have heard us talking?" Quinn is about to cry again in frustration and when Lord Tubbington meows and she looks back to see Brittany's sorry face, she does. She just loses it.

**A/N: I'm sorry it took me almost a month. I am. But in my "defense" my loves, it's decidedly more difficult to be motivated when I don't see even one new review **** However, my gratitude and eternal affection to those 20 of you (so far) who've followed. You are dear to me. This has been Kay, with your dose of "ouch-my-feels-are-dying". Follow me at LazyWriterGirl on Twitter so that you can prompt me or hurl abuse at me for being such a stingy updater… but preferably not the second thing.**


	5. Reminisce

**A/N: You guys are the best! I was feeling kind of bummy on Tuesday after my last exam and then I checked my emails and WOW. Reviews! I'm getting some motivation back and it's thanks to you! Here's Chapter 5 **** Super long flashbacks and a couple of painful ouchy-in-the-feels moments ahoy!**

**BUT FIRST:**

**SHOUTOUTS TO (it's a long-ish list, y'all):**

**Guest-Alex: Heyyy nice to hear from you again, my friend **

**Guest-Cass: Well thanks to you I don't think I can give up on it **

**Guest-keke: BAM. Update!**

**shayrhin10: Hope you like this, we're getting to Beth very, very slowly…**

**Breyanaxo: I'm finding a rhythm again, so don't worry about me stopping anytime soon!**

**I'll do a few more after the chapter, how does that sound? **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot… **

* * *

_Mate, you're too late_

_And you weren't worth the wait, now were you?_

_It's out of my hands_

_Since you blew your last chance when you played me_

_ Pixie Lott, Cry Me Out_

Of all of her friends, Emily is the most sensitive. She knows this. She gets hurt easily, which is why it took her longer than necessary to say yes to Quinn. After Maya, Emily wasn't prepared for another potential romance. She had even begun to grow distant from the other Liars – after the whole A debacle, it kind of just stuck – and mental walls that Spencer Hastings would have envied grew up around Emily's mind. God doesn't even know how Quinn Fabray managed to sneak past her defenses and get her to open up again. But Emily sure does though, doesn't she? When Emily thinks back to how their relationship started, she can follow the path that eventually led them into each other's arms.

Quinn was, to Emily's memory, the only new student at Rosewood High last September. It makes sense seeing as this is senior year and most people will graduate from wherever they went for the last three years. Anyway, Spencer was actually the first one to meet Quinn, and it was in their AP Biology class. She told the girls later that she'd recognized an intellectual equal in Quinn, and that was the reason for her bringing the blonde over to meet the others. Emily can still remember the first time she ever laid eyes on the blonde, and accessing the memory makes her feel something akin to heartburn.

* * *

"_Quinn, these are my best friends," Spencer's voice is proud as she introduces them. She points first to Aria, then to Hanna, and smiles as she finally points to Emily and says, "That girl right there is Emily. She's the youngest of us, and also the sweetest." Spencer's new friend shakes their hands and Emily finds herself staring up into hazel eyes. Overall the girl is drop-dead gorgeous, but it's her eyes that really pull Emily in. They're almost green in the light, and have such a melancholy strength that it makes Quinn's whole face seem intent. Lovely. She's absolutely lovely and she's smiling and has a wonderful husky voice and next thing Emily knows they're sitting side-by-side as Hanna asks the new girl a million questions about where she's from and why she transferred._

* * *

From that first eye contact, she'd guessed that Quinn Fabray was something special. She hates how clichéd most of her descriptions of their early relationship sound but there's really no better way to put things. It hadn't been the whole "love at first sight" deal that Disney movies liked to pitch, more like a curiosity that bubbled up every so often. She'd still been hurting over Maya's death at the time, and besides, this girl was probably straight. Surprisingly, she'd fit in quite snugly with their group and to some people it looked like she was their new Alison. They couldn't have been further from the truth. Where Alison had constantly been denigrating the girls for stupid things, Quinn took joy in all of their quirks and even complimented them on things that Alison had teased about. And Quinn, unlike Alison, wasn't out to play people's emotions. She was confident in whom she was, something that made itself clear when at Hanna's house one afternoon, she told them that she wasn't interested in guys.

* * *

_"But really, Quinn, don't even worry about that guy. He's a total jerk," Aria says warmly. Quinn is a bit shaken up. One of Noel Kahn's friends had asked her out after school and when she'd said no, he'd reacted almost violently, spewing off a tirade about her being "all high and mighty just because" she's new to Rosewood. Luckily, Hanna found him and managed to get the boy to leave before he'd done anything any real damage. _

_ "Yeah. I never liked him, he's always been quick to anger and it was a matter of time before he blew up on a girl like that… Good thing Hanna was around," Spencer says pensively. Quinn just nods and begins to calm down as Hanna pats her back softly._

_ "Hey, Q? Can I ask you something?" She says, carefully. Quinn nods and Hanna asks, "Why didn't you want to go out with him? I mean, yeah, he's not the brightest bulb in the box, and he can be a real jerk at times, but he's _really_ hot."_

_ Emily looks across the room to the two blondes, waiting for Quinn's answer with bated breath. So she's grown attracted to their new addition, so what? It's not like it will ever go anywhere. Quinn is probably used to dating hyper-attractive, intelligent, sensitive _male_ jocks, and while Emily meets more than half of these conditions, the one she doesn't meet is the one she can't do much to alter._

_ "Oh, he's hot, for sure…" Quinn trails off and the four friends all look at her with apprehension, awaiting the next words. "I'm just not interested in him. He _is_ a guy, after all." Aria is the first to mouth "Oh." and she pats Quinn's hand comfortingly. Spencer does the same after a few seconds, and Hanna is practically squealing with excitement because, hello, two of her best friends are super-hot and lesbians. Sexual diversity being celebrated right here!_

_ "You're gay too?" Emily asks, almost ashamed at how dumb the question sounds. She's about to apologize for being so silly when Quinn shoots her a smile that's different from the one she's given the other girls. It holds the same gratitude, yes, but there's something else in it. It's a silent appraisal of Emily as somebody more than just a new friend, a little invitation to... something. Whatever it is, it gives her a pleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach, and Emily hopes that Quinn feels something similar when she shoots the blonde a shy grin in return._

* * *

Emily groans, the happy memories from months ago colliding with the sour thoughts that have been festering in her head for more than an hour now. She lets everything swirl around in her head for a while, laying back on her bed and wanting nothing more than to just wake up from the nightmare world that seems to have taken over real life. But God or whoever controls what happens to Emily, well, whoever it is clearly hates her or something.

* * *

_"You know, you've been avoiding me, Em. Did I do something wrong?" It's a Saturday morning after a sleepover and for once it's just Emily and Quinn. Aria is out with Ezra, probably trying to convince Mrs. Fitz that she's really a good, decent girl. Spencer is off studying, or so she says. Emily suspects that Toby may have had something to do with the blush on Spencer's face as she answered a call from her "mom" right before leaving. Hanna is at Caleb's spending the day with him, and it's during times like these where Emily thinks about Maya. She should be miserable without her. But she's not. It isn't like she's forgotten her late girlfriend, but for some reason she finds herself able to get through more of the day without wanting to cry over her. Maybe it's because she's making progress? It has been a year and a bit, and finally she's making progress. And that's good, right? But wait, Quinn is asking her a question and she'd better answer it or it'll look like she really _has_ been avoiding the beautiful blonde. Not that she's been doing anything of that sort. Nope, not at all._

_ "No, you didn't do anything. I've just been thinking about… well, everything. Swimming, grades, how my mom's slowly coming around about my sexuality. You know, usual stuff." Quinn nods even though she doesn't look convinced. "So uh… what do you wanna do today?"_

_ "I don't really want to go out. Maybe for a walk, it's not at all bad out. Want to come with me? We could talk." Emily nods, prompting a smile from the shorter girl. "Great! We could get to know each other a bit. You know, out of all of the people I've met here at Rosewood, I spend the most time with you and the rest of the gang, but I don't know too much about you guys. Especially you." Emily grins, she can't help it._

_ "Not much about me is very interesting," she says as she pulls on a jacket. It's a bit nippy for October, but that could just be due to the early morning hour. Quinn is already tying a pretty blue scarf around her neck and pulls on a nice jacket as Emily grabs her own scarf off a hanger in the closet. The pair makes their way downstairs and Emily locks the door behind her when she leaves. They decide to walk through a scenic little forest pathway and Emily relishes the feeling of not being afraid to do so. A had made it so difficult to enjoy life but now that's over and there is nothing to stop her from enjoying right now._

_ "Want to play 20 questions?"_

_ "Okay." She says it with a smile on her face and nudges Quinn with her elbow as if to say "You go first."_

_ "So… what's your favourite sport?" Quinn asks this teasingly; she's pretty sure that she can guess._

_ "Oh ha, ha. It's swimming, but you already knew that," Emily sticks her tongue out at Quinn before asking her question. "Do you have a middle name?"_

_ "Yes," Quinn says, and she takes a breath before continuing, "It's Quinn, actually." The blonde sees the confusion on Emily's face and she sighs. "My actual name is Lucy, but I go by Quinn because well, my memories of being Lucy aren't exactly good ones." Emily nods to indicate that she understands and that she won't push for answers. She's not really in any place to do that._

_ "I think Quinn is a beautiful name. It suits you," she says instead, because it's light and, more importantly than that, it's true and wait… wait, she can't be flirting with Quinn. That's not right._

_ "Thank you," Quinn says shyly, "I always thought it sounded a bit boyish, to be honest, and I think that feeling just got worse when I made friend with girls whose names were classic 'girl' names, like Rachel and Brittany… Ahem, anyway, uh… What made you decide to come out here with me this morning?"_

_ Emily almost laughs at the personal nature of the question, but they're playing a game that consists entirely of asking and answering questions, so it doesn't strike her as odd or anything. "I guess I just agreed with what you had to say about not knowing much about me. You're as much of a mystery as I am though. Why did you move to Rosewood?"_

_ Quinn laughs, and it's such a cute sound that Emily almost melts. "Well, after I came out to my family, my mother told me that she even though she couldn't understand it just yet, she loved me regardless of who I am but my father wasn't having it. He said that if I wanted to be such a disgrace, I'd have to do it elsewhere, and then he gave me about thirty minutes to pack up and leave. It'd happened once before, and I'd been alone then, but this time my mother packed her own things and left him. My sister's husband had just inherited a house here from his aunt, and he told us he'd be glad to let us have it."_

_ "I'm sorry to hear about your dad," Emily says, and she means it. It strikes her how lucky she is to have a dad who is so willing to understand her and what she's going through._

_ "Don't be, he's been a huge prick ever since… well, the dawn of forever. How about you? How did your parents take the news?"_

_ Emily manages a small smile, "My dad is a soldier, so he's away a lot, and when I told him he kind of just nodded and went downstairs to think. I heard him and my mom going at each other; he was trying to understand me but she thought that maybe they'd done something wrong."_

_ "That must have been difficult to hear," Quinn observes, and her hand finds Emily's, bridging a gap between them. The blonde's hand is warm and soft, and Emily smiles as she continues to answer the question._

_ "It was difficult being around my parents after that. For a while. Now my dad is off in Afghanistan again and he told me before he left that he loved me no matter what. My mom is… a bit less accepting, but she's started to calm down about it and she's even begun taking an interest in my love life."_

_ "Yeah? How so?" Quinn asks, and Emily thinks that maybe she's not playing the game anymore._

_ "Well, she'll ask me if there is a girl I'm interested in and if I say yes, she asks me what the girl is like and things like that. It's been difficult for her, but she's getting to a point where she can accept things for what they are."_

_ "That's good! I hope things work out nicely between the two of you, you seem close."_

_ "We are. I mean, not so much since I came out, but she's still my mom and I know she's really trying… Erm, I think it's my turn to ask a question, right?" Emily takes Quinn's swift little nod as approval, and she asks the first thing that comes to mind, "Have you ever dated another girl before?"_

_ Quinn doesn't respond for a while and though her hand is still in Emily's, it's like she's just seconds away from pulling herself out of reach. But she doesn't. "Her name was, er, is Santana. She and I, along with our best friend Brittany are known as the Unholy Trinity back home. Don't ask," she giggles at Emily's cocked eyebrow, "And Santana and I were always competing for the spot as head cheerleader of the Cheerios, that's our team name. Anyway, we dated the summer of sophomore year right up until junior year ended."_

_ "Dated? Why did you break up, if you don't mind my asking?"_

_ "Well as it turns out, Santana and Brittany are a much better match than she and I ever were. We argued all the time, and sometimes people thought we were trying to kill each other, but with Brittany she's… different. Softer. We love each other, but more like sisters than anything else." Quinn smiles fondly at the thought of her best friends and Emily thinks it's a sad kind of smile. Beautifully sad. "What kind of girl are you interested in?"_

_ "I… you know, I'd never really thought of it before," Emily says. Alison flashes up behind her eyes and she knows what she _doesn't _want in a girl. "I need somebody honest, somebody who'll be upfront with their feelings. You know, somebody who won't play games with me…" Quinn nods, and Emily thinks briefly that she's encouraging her to continue, so she does. "I liked this girl on the swim team before but she wasn't too comfortable about the possibility of being 'out' and well… it made things difficult. So we ended it. I can't be with somebody who wants to put me back in the closet. I've fought for myself for too long to go back." Again, Quinn nods, and if Emily isn't mistaken, she looks thoughtful. "I'd just like somebody who's willing to be with me out in the open, who cares about me."_

_ "Do you think it's possible to care about somebody you've just met? I mean, really care?"_

_ Taken aback by the suddenness of the question, Emily says, "Yes."_

"_Do you think you could possibly fall for somebody like… me?" Quinn has started playing with Emily's fingers, gliding them along the breeze with her own. It's a nice feeling._

"_Yes. There's not much about you that a person can't like, Quinn."_

_There's this feeling of a warm mouth covering her own and Emily is aware of the hazel of Quinn's eyes before they slip shut and the feel of a soft cheek under her palm as her free hand cups the slightly smaller girl's face. She sighs in contentment and is pleased when Quinn releases her hand to throw both arms around her neck. They stay that way for a while, Quinn's chin tilted up ever-so-slightly to meet Emily's lips. Emily has her other arm wrapped around the blonde's waist, pulling her in closer, so that the brunette can feel the ex-cheerleader relax into her._

_ When finally they do break apart, Quinn giggles, and it's infectious. "I'm sorry if that was so sudden… but I like you, Emily Fields. I think you're fascinating. You're sweet, smart, gorgeous… and an amazing kisser." Emily can't help but blush. "I know we met only a month ago, but I really want to have something with you. Maybe not now, but sometime in the near future."_

_ "I think that I would like that very much. You, Quinn Fabray, are every bit as fascinating to me as I seem to be to you." They walk back to Emily's house together, this time giving each other some space. There's a beginning to something new hidden behind their smiles when Pam greets them at the door._

* * *

"We never did finish that game of 20 questions, Quinn." Emily says out loud. Of course, her empty room is the only thing to greet her reflection, and she groans again in despair. Maybe they won't ever finish that game. Maybe they're done for, for good. Emily may be the sweetest, most sensitive little thing in all of Rosewood, but she's not stupid. She can't stay with a cheater, regardless of if she's the one being cheated on or the one being used to cheat on somebody else with. She can only assume that she falls under the second label, because the Beth girl she'd heard about over Skype is from Lima, meaning Quinn must have known her before she ever knew that Emily Fields existed. For the first time Emily's phone beeps beside her, only it isn't the first time because she's missed a multitude of calls, all from Quinn. And then there are the text messages. She skims through them all before stopping on the most recent, which reads:

_**Emily, I don't know how much you heard – or how you heard anything, for that matter – but please, please don't make any decisions about us. You have to hear what I have to say first. Listen to me, please, and if you still hate my guts afterwards, you can dump me, or kick my ass, or have the girls do it, or all three. Whatever you want. But please, baby, hear me out. I love you. Please don't hate me.**_

She sighs. A large part of her is afraid that Quinn is going to come up with some fantastic story to cover up her indiscretion, and then she'll be suckered into helping Quinn be a cheater. A larger part of her however, is convinced that Quinn must have a reason for what she'd heard, a real reason. She texts back, and hopes that it isn't too harsh.

_**I don't hate you, but I don't know how you can say that you love me right now. I heard you and Santana talk about how you couldn't bear to lose Beth, whoever that is, because Brittany had accepted a video call I was making to Santana by accident. From the looks of it, she's sorry, so don't get mad at her. I don't know what to think right now, Quinn, but fine. When you come home, I'll hear you out. You know though, I don't think I can be your girlfriend anymore if you've got a girlfriend that you love back in Lima.**_

It's only seconds later when Emily receives two texts, one after the other. The first says:

_**Thank you for giving me the chance to explain myself. I'm not mad at Britt, she made a mistake. And I should have told you about Beth a while ago. I'm driving home actually, so I can't text anymore. I'll see you tomorrow at lunch, how about?**_

Emily doesn't bother responding to the request for lunch; she knows that Quinn chose the time in order to feel more comfortable about the conversation that would occur. It's the second text that has her attention.

_**I would never cheat on you Emily. Beth isn't my girlfriend, she's only two. She's my daughter.**_

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to you lovely reviewers, please keep on sending Kay some love **** As always, follow LazyWriterGirl on Twitter if you've got it (it's an account I made strictly for users to contact me through) and yeah… MWAH. That was longer than expected, but after neglecting you for so long I figure a little spoiling never hurt anybody ;) And I apologize for any errors grammatical or otherwise, I am un-betaed and while I prefer quality over quantity in my writing, I just had to get this up and running! I fixed the line breaks, since ff decided to take them out. -_-**

**OH and before I forget. MORE SHOUTOUTS TO:**

**CustomHeroine: You're sweet, glad you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think of this, yeah? ;)**

**Loveheather: Hey! Don't even worry about it, I'm glad you're enjoying it so far.**

**dmpanda5: You honoured me with those 2 reviews **** Hope this is to your liking!**


	6. A Break

**A/N: Oh, how words cannot express how much I LOVE YOU GUYS! Seriously, you've been absolutely amazing with the reviews lately and I just get the feeling that you're enjoying it, which, as a writer, is the most important thing for me. And thank you to those of you who've followed/favourite as well, I haven't forgotten about you! Shout-outs after the chapter, so that those of you who don't want to read them don't have to. What's happening with our girls? Well, here's another piece to the puzzle **

**Disclaimer: Well once Marlene and Ryan hand over them ownership papers I… awh shit. Never mind. **

_This hope is treacherous  
This daydream is dangerous  
This hope is treacherous_

_ Taylor Swift, Treacherous_

* * *

It's not really like Quinn to mope (not anymore, at least) but she finds herself doing exactly that as she stares straight ahead, hands on the wheel as her car engine thrums steadily underneath her. She's not tired – she took a break after crossing the state boundary – which is good for her body but bad for her ongoing mental struggles. With a clear head, she can't help but replay the words that Emily had sent her last night. _I don't know how you can say that you love me right now. _Okay, well, sure maybe it looks like Quinn just said that that to cover her ass, but she _does_ love Emily. She does. Really. And the damn girl didn't answer her calls the whole _fucking_ night. She wasn't harsh or anything in her reply, but Quinn had been expecting… well, more. More warmth, more communication. Just, more. She knew she should've brought up Beth months ago, when things between she and Emily became exclusive. But she didn't and now she wishes she'd been smart enough to realize that lying about a baby you carried during sophomore year is not the way to go about a hopefully-long-term relationship.

The coiled snake of cynicism living in the back of Quinn's brain unwinds itself and hisses into her ear about how Emily _doesn't actually love her, _anyway_._ How the tall swimmer is just using her for the pleasure she can offer her body. How every single _I love you_ is a lie dipped in acid that's slowly been eating away at the fibrous muscles of Quinn's heart. The blonde shakes her head angrily. Maybe the stupid thing is right. Maybe Emily doesn't love her. She's usually most _vocal _with her "I love you" piece after – oh God, mostly _during_ – the act of coitus. And they've certainly been intimate more than often enough for Emily to have convinced herself that her during-sex locutions are based on true, non-physical feelings. Quinn can think about a hundred times (more) that Emily has expressed how much she loves her during particularly… climactic, episodes at home. A memory from a little over a month ago bursts to the forefront of her thoughts as she drives, reaching the large city about a half hour away from Rosewood, the one nobody can ever really recall the name of.

She can see it, the rise and fall of the brunette's chest is heavy as she gazes up at Quinn with lusty eyes. The way her dark hair is fanned out on the pillow spurns on an itch in Quinn's fingers, the locks appearing far more silken than the bedspread they're currently sprawled over. The blonde feels an ache in her chest as she summons more details to mind, recalling the taste of the girl on her lips as she leans down to silence the mewling that has begun to fall past the swimmer's mouth, unhindered by her tongue. Emily's tan hands are trailing down the blonde's abs, teasingly circling the heated pool practically dripping with lust… the memory is so vivid, so powerful, that Quinn feels the familiar rubber band ball of tension easing its way into her stomach and… _oh God. _She did _not_ just turn herself on at the stoplight. Gross, that middle-aged pervert is taking her flushed cheeks and heavy-lidded eyes into view and licking his lips at her and _GO. _Quinn shakes her head again as a way to clear the lust from her mind. The _point_ here, she reminds herself, is that Emily must've said "I love you" at least ten times that night (and that was just the first go-around) and Quinn is convinced that she says it only rarely, if ever, outside of a sexual context.

But then she thinks again.

* * *

_Emily has a warm hand on her forehead and Quinn feels like this is oddly reminiscent of that one time when Santana gave her mono as a way of saying "You're a bitch for making out with Finn behind my back". The Nyquil is making her loopy and she shouldn't have taken it, but now she has to deal with the consequences._

_ "Baby, this reminds me of the time Santana gave me mono."_

_ "Uh…"_

_ "I mean, like… it's not your fault or anything, and this is just a flu-cold hybrid thingy, not mono, but maybe it kind of is your fault a little baby, since you kissed me when you were still contagious and maybe… but you know I don't blame you or—Emily places her other hand on Quinn's bottom lip and pushes it upwards slightly, guiding the blonde's mouth in a closing motion. Stupid Nyquil making Quinn sound like a baby with no sense of proper sentence structure and punctuation._

_ "You are positively adorable when you ramble, honey, honestly, but shh. Go to sleep. I'll be around if you need me." _

_ "Mhm… wait, Em, will you stay with me until I fall asleep?" Quinn feels oddly insecure as Emily gets up to leave, but then, she's like this with everybody when she's sick…and on Nyquil. The tall girl giggles and nods, sitting on the bed in such a way that she can cradle the blonde in her arms without being in range of her disease-addled breath._

_ "I love you, Quinn."_

* * *

So that was one time. One time that they weren't doing the deed and Emily told Quinn that she loved her. But there were more moments than that one, Quinn thinks, and suddenly she's ashamed of her previous mean thoughts. The cynical little demon-snake-mind-possessor of her conscious hisses one last time before abruptly dying in the tidal wave of cheesy movie-reel memories that spin around in Quinn's head like a tilt-a-whirl. There's Quinn and Emily in the forest two months after their first kiss, one month after they decided to give a relationship a try. It's freezing outside and they're both cold and want to go home, and Emily's eyes linger on Quinn's, sparkling with laughter at the cherry red nose before she says it, spontaneously, "I love you". There they are again a week or two later, sitting on swings meant for much smaller hips and giggling as they slip off the cold plastic, tumbling into the snow. "I love you," Emily says as she collides with Quinn on the ground. Oh look, there they are in Spencer's family barn, sharing a heated blanket and watching Hanna, Spencer, and Aria discuss the problems they have with their boyfriends. When Quinn notices that the girls have found yet _another _point of annoyance plaguing their relationships – selfishness, which is something that, like most of their other boyfriend troubles, does not apply to her – Emily snuggles closer into her before whispering a quiet "I love you" at her earlobe. Then it's Christmas and Quinn hasn't even had a chance to show Emily the gift she'd wrapped up herself when the gorgeous brunette is saying "I love you, Quinn, Merry Christmas" and pulling her closer just for the sake of being nearer.

There are many, many more memories, but Quinn doesn't exactly have time to reminisce right now. The car engine dies as the blonde behind the wheel stops in front of her house, only just managing to yank the keys out before she's off and tearing down the street. She must look crazy, running all the ten-minute drive (it will take her roughly twenty minutes) to Emily's house. Quinn feels the remorse sinking into her as she realizes that for Emily, the sex isn't the reason for the affectionate words she directs at Quinn. No, the words are ingrained into Emily's being now, and the particular way in which she means them is something that her mind must've decided was meant for Quinn only. Quinn should never have slipped into such negative, base thoughts about her girlfriend because, let's face it; Emily Fields is head over heels in love with Lucy Quinn Fabray. And Quinn returns her feelings because she's fucked up so many other relationships at this point and Emily doesn't deserve that. And she'd better hurry her ass up and get to Emily's room because oh shit never mind, there are the other girls, sitting on Emily's front porch and watching as Quinn makes her way up the driveway, with purpose. She's huffy and red in the face as she approaches, and it really must make her look fifty shades of insane. That, and her already-formfitting-dress is now bordering on inappropriately clingy thanks to her sweat. Thank God she doesn't smell offensive or anything, since it's spring and she really wasn't running that hard.

"Quinn…" Aria's voice is soft, and Quinn thanks the sun and moon and what-have-you that the tiny girl doesn't sound angry. "Quinn we just wanted to let you know that Emily is… well, she's upset, understandably, but none of us hates you or anything." She walks past Quinn, stopping to rest a small hand on the taller girl's forearm. "Catch you at school, kay?" And with a smile Aria is off, probably to go home where she has her own drama to deal with. The small girl turns back when she reaches the end of the driveway and calls out, "You two will be fine, Q, I'm sure. Your 'dark' secret isn't that bad." Quinn puzzles over the words for a second before brushing them off. Leave it to Aria to be dramatic.

"You look great, considering you popped out a baby and everything," Hanna says nonchalantly, stepping lightly off the steps a she draws nearer to Quinn. She seems the least affected of the trio and Quinn knows immediately that Hanna doesn't hold her lying against her. Maybe the other blonde is just unwilling to look at the bad in others, or maybe, as Quinn suspects, it's something else. The look on Hanna's face when she approaches Quinn, only to pull her into a soft hug, is something that Quinn has seen countless times before, from a handful of people. Hanna doesn't, couldn't possibly understand her reasoning behind the lies, but she accepts that what happened, happened, and she isn't about to destroy a friendship because of it. She breathes out shakily as Hanna pulls away with a classic Marin grin. "See you later, babe. Best of luck. She's not that angry, you'll be fine. We've been through darker stuff before."

Spencer is the only one left, standing between Quinn and the steps to the porch like some valiant knight made to guard his princess' bedchambers. But Spencer is smiling. "You know, I never really was… expecting something like that from you. But we all have our secrets." Her tone is a bit dark, and Quinn vaguely wonders if she'd be able to make it out of a scrap with Spencer. It wouldn't be pretty. "She really loves you, Q. We never thought she'd ever fully recover after Maya. But she did. Because of you. And now she's hurting. Fix it, please, Quinn. She doesn't deserve shit like this anymore. And neither do you, from what I can guess." The brilliant Ivy-League bound girl clasps a hand down on Quinn's shoulder as a form of both camaraderie and forgiveness and then she too is gone, leaving Quinn to stare down the porch steps like she's about to enter into the coliseum. She has half a mind not to go in at all, really, but she can't chicken out now. She owes Emily a full explanation, and it wouldn't do to have it any other way than through a face-to-face conversation. Quinn makes a mental checklist. She hopes to accomplish two things.

Explain Beth to Emily.

Leave the house with the knowledge that she still has a loving relationship with a girl she's starting to love more than anything else.

That sounds simple enough. Only it isn't.

* * *

The first problem Quinn encounters is that Emily, despite what Hanna had said, is livid. It's not really obvious at first, but the veiled hostility in every word becomes painfully clear the more Quinn tries to suitably open up the conversation. Finally she just goes for it, dragging Emily down into a sitting position on the bed.

"I got pregnant with Beth when I slept with Puck before the beginning of sophomore year. It was stupid of me to think that 'Trust me' was a good enough form of birth control." Quinn pauses, realizing that this is the first time she'd ever had to tell a girlfriend about Beth. Santana already knew. And the other girls… she'd never had deep emotional connections with them, barely considered them girlfriends really. Emily heaves out a sigh.

"Why did you sleep with him?" It's not a jealous question, not even an angry one. Clearly Emily is trying her best to understand Quinn's story, the blonde realizes.

"I was battling the attraction I felt towards a transfer student who'd just gotten into both Cheerios and the glee club… and at the same time, pining over Santana." Quinn blushed at the admission. If the fiery Latina could hear this she would be crowing over the fact that Quinn, for whom Santana had practically been made to jump through hoops, had secretly harboured her feelings for longer than the other girl had.

"Was she pretty?" Quinn looks confused. Emily knows what Santana looks like. They've gotten pretty close considering they've only met in person twice. Then she realizes that her girlfriend – they're still dating, right? – must be talking about the transfer student. Why? Quinn guesses Emily is asking about it to distract them both from what she fears will be a long, heartbreaking story that (and Quinn doesn't guess at this last part) will tear Emily up inside when she looks back on how poorly she thought of her girlfriend for those few hours in between the blonde's last text message and their current situation. Quinn decides to humour Emily, oblivious to the brunette's inner conflict.

"Her name was Victoria, but we just called her Tori. A beautiful, open smile, skin the colour of caramel, and the world's most pronounced cheekbones ever… taller than me, and absolutely stunning. I was sure I wanted to ask her out, get close to her. She was just so beautiful." Emily makes a small noise of indignation and Quinn chuckles lowly. "Nowhere near as beautiful as you. Not by a long shot, especially not in my book." She shoots Emily a shy smile, encouraged by the cheeky, loving grin she gets in return. It's a fleeting moment, but it must count for something, right? "Uh… But as I was saying, Puck got me drunk, and then, when I stupidly agreed to sleep with him, the dumbass didn't have the sense to go find some protection. I should have insisted on it, so he's not the only one to blame but… Before I knew it, I was pregnant and things had taken a turn for the ridiculous."

"That would explain why Puck calls you MILF a lot."

Quinn chuckles again before continuing, "Yeah. He's not quite gotten it through his head that the only people who know about Beth are people from Lima. My pregnancy was kind of Lima's best-worst-kept secret. Most other people assumed he was just being the same old Puck, so they let the nickname slide without much thought. Probably just thought he assumed I'll still look like this after we got married and had a baby for real. " Something in Emily's eyes flashes briefly and in any other situation Quinn would be teasing her girlfriend about jealousy, but this isn't the place for that. "Uh… right. Anyway… I was pregnant and so, supposedly, was Mr. Schue's then-wife Terri." Emily nods, unsure of where the conversation is headed, but Quinn figures the other girl is just showing that she acknowledges that this had something to do with Mr. Schue's ex-wife. "Terri had been experiencing a hysterical pregnancy, and for some insane reason she thought that making Mr. Schue believe she was actually pregnant anyway would save their crumbling marriage. She soon realized that she'd need a baby, and fast. And there I was. Pregnant at sixteen, kicked out of the house without anybody to care about whether or not I was getting to my sonograms on time, taking the right vitamins, eating properly… all of that. Terri and I made a deal that when I delivered my baby, she would adopt her." Quinn stops for a moment to catch her breath.

It's difficult, she finds, reliving all of these memories which she'd once kept securely hidden away, but she presses forward. Emily needs to understand everything. "It didn't work out with Terri. Mr. Schue found out that she was faking her pregnancy and promptly separated from her, effectively clearing up the haze that had started creeping in around my conscious. At the same time, I was more worried now. I couldn't keep the baby and I knew that. I had been living with Puck's family for a while, but when Santana offered me her brother's room I leapt at the chance. Being with Puck all day made me realize exactly how unprepared we were for a child, and I actively began to look for somebody who'd be good to my baby girl. I couldn't find anybody who didn't already have their own children to handle… I was going insane."

"When the New Directions made it to Regionals, I calmed down a bit about my pregnancy, only to stress for the upcoming competition. How was I going to be able to dance if any strenuous movement could prove harmful to the baby? But I couldn't _not_ be there. Rachel and San and the rest of the club would have killed me if they'd had to search for a replacement that close to the competition. Luckily the routine wasn't too heavy for me, and after a while we became so caught up in the possible glory of winning Regionals that I didn't realize how close my due date was."

"That must have been difficult, all the same," Emily comments, and her tone is even. It doesn't sound at all bad, but Quinn knows Emily better than that. She isn't happy, but she's working her mind in an attempt to absorb as much of this as quickly and thoroughly as possible. "You could have gotten hurt."

Quinn nods, "I was very lucky. During our set list, I'd noticed how my stomach seemed to be turning flips on its own, but I wrote it off as nerves. It was the baby, kicking about, ready to come out into the world." Quinn begins to cry now, and she's thankful for the rustle of the bed sheets as Emily takes her up into her arms. "My mother came to the performance and told me that she and my father were sorry. They'd take me back as soon as I'd given birth; even turn my sister Frannie's room into a nursery. I was so shocked that the next thing I knew, my water had broken and everybody was rushing me to the hospital. It hurt so, so much Emily, giving birth to that baby." Emily just whispers soothingly as she strokes Quinn's hair.

"When they handed her to me in the hospital I couldn't believe that, due to one stupid mistake, I held a pretty little baby girl in my arms. She was perfect. But Puck and I soon realized that we really couldn't be parents. And neither of us wanted her to grow up with _our_ parents… we were at a loss…" Quinn inwardly marvels at how steady her own voice sounds despite the sobs racking her body. "Rachel, you remember Rachel, right, well it's thanks to her that Beth has a mom that takes care of her better than I ever could have."

"Why is that?" Emily's voice is soft, and Quinn can hear the affection she's grown so accustomed to. It' slowly creeping back into the brunette's tone, and even the soft movements of her hands over blonde hair seem to have taken on a sweeter manner.

"Her biological mom, Shelby, had been talking to her about how it was nice, bonding with a teenager, but she'd always wanted to raise a baby from the very beginning. Rachel understood her mom, she understands even now, and she knew how important it was for Puck and I that our daughter be given the best home possible. Shelby adopted Beth, fell in love with her when she first laid eyes on her, and it was the best thing I could have ever done for her." Quinn tenses in Emily's arms for a moment. Up until now, nothing she's said made her case for lying seem any more forgivable. They both know that that was only half of the conversation ahead. The couple allows the silence of the room to swallow them for a while, revelling in the peace it brings.

"Quinn… you've been through so much," Emily says finally. "You don't… you don't have to explain anything else to me." Quinn looks into her eyes and knows that she does. If she wants this relationship to work, Quinn has to get everything out in the open. Now.

"I lied to you because I was afraid that, even if you loved me as much as you said you did, you would be disgusted with me… For being so stupid, for having a baby, for lying to you because I couldn't face up to my past." It's out in the open, the words hanging over their heads like dew clinging to every blade of grass it can find, refusing to fall to the ground and disperse into nothing. "After Santana I wasn't expecting anybody to ever understand me. She had been there every step of the way, and although she was never particularly supportive, she understood what she was getting into by being with me. When we… fell out of love, I guess, well I was sure I'd never have something like that with anybody ever again. I dated a few other girls here and there, but they weren't fulfilling anything deeper than the physical aspect of a relationship." Quinn is startled to see how Emily's sweet eyes harden but it's a natural reaction to the words coming from Quinn's mouth. Nobody wants to here about girls touching all up on their girlfriend. "I moved to Lima because my father couldn't handle me being who I am, and I just couldn't be at McKinley anymore. All the looks, all the whispers… so we moved here. I wasn't expecting much, just thought I'd use this last year to get the grades I need to go to Yale or Harvard, but then you were there and you are absolutely perfect to me and I couldn't—can't bear the thought of losing you over Beth. And I can't ever apologize enough for lying to you, for hiding the truth from you." The blonde shudders as a terrific sadness builds throughout her body. Is she going to be dumped over this? Has she completely destroyed the way that Emily once loved her? "You must hate me."

"… I would never, never be disgusted with you. And hate you? Never. Especially not because of something like this. Quinn, look at me," Quinn looks up and into soft brown eyes. "I'm not happy that you lied to me… But I want to understand you. I know that Beth is important to you even if you're her mother but not her mom. What kind of person would I be if I were to break up with you simply because you love your daughter, but are scared for the world to know she exists? If anything… I can only love you more, at the end of it all." Emily's words are the catalyst, and Quinn throws herself into waiting arms, broken with relief. The tears that she'd been spilling previously are nothing like those that fall now. They're fat, angry, cleansing tears, streaming down her reddened cheeks with an almost vindictive saltiness. Quinn isn't sure what she'd been expecting, but Emily's admission that she still loves her is better than anything she'd pictured being said today. "Quinn, I love you, and I want for us to just go back to being how we were before all of this…" Quinn looks up before the "but" falls from Emily's mouth. She feels it before it's said. "… But I don't think we can go back to that. There's just… so much to take in right now. Too much. And…" Quinn is pleading with her tear-stained face. This doesn't sound good. There's a look in Emily's eyes that seems… off. Like it's _her_ who's been hiding some life-altering secret behind smiles and kisses for the past half a year. But that can't be it, Quinn thinks. It must be Beth. Emily isn't as reconciled with the idea as Quinn would have hoped, but it's understandable and she'll respect it as long as Emily doesn't—"I think we should take a break."

"I—yeah," Quinn chokes out. She's about to cry again but _fuck that _because Quinn Fabray has already cried more in an hour or so than she's done for the past two years. "I guess we, we just stumbled into this relationship without really knowing each other… we should take a break, you're right." Quinn struggles to smile and gets up, out of Emily's arms before she starts begging the brunette to just kiss her and never ever suggest that they take a break ever again. She can't do that to herself. Or to Emily. For her part the brunette looks just as thunderstruck as Quinn feels, almost as if she can't believe that she's just suggested a break. But she has. So they'll try it. Because it's the only thing that can save them at this point.

"I do love you, Quinn. You have to believe me when I say it. It's true."

"I love you, Emily; I love you so, so much. I know that what I've just told you… will take time to adjust to. I will be waiting for your call, text, whatever, to know when we can be us again."

Emily looks confused at this. "What do you mean? Aren't you going to be hanging out with us anymore? I don't want you to be away from us Quinn… this is just a break." Quinn nods to show that she understands the concept, but she's started thinking that maybe she isn't the only one who should be acting out a confessional scene. Her mind, praise the sharp thing that it is, has just caught on to something. Yes, she hid the truth about Beth from Emily (not to mention she hasn't even thought about how she'll bring up "Lucy Caboosey") but there's not much else she hasn't told Emily. The brunette however… there's something there. Like, why does she never mention much about Maya? What about the girl who wanted to keep their relationship secret? And what is it with Emily, no, _all_ of her best friends at Rosewood, having this hang-up on the "dark" and secrets? Is she missing something, Quinn wonders, or has she been reading into this too much? But no, she's never doubted her instincts before, and everything is adding up. Aria telling her that her secret wasn't a huge deal. Hanna mentioning the "darker stuff" the girls had faced before. Spencer mentioning how Emily didn't need the undue stress of shit like this "anymore". The way Emily used to look out the window when she thought Quinn wasn't looking. The odd conversations that followed, all on nights where Quinn was almost too tired to remember.

* * *

_Quinn's bed is warm, and she sinks underneath the covers further, reaching for Emily's hand. It isn't there. Emily is sitting up, staring at the window even though she doesn't seem to be looking at anything in particular. She's quiet. Quinn would marvel at the beauty of the girl she shares a bed with, if it weren't for the almost eerie concentration she holds in her gaze._

_ "Baby?"_

_ "Huh?" It's a startled little sound, and Quinn almost feels sorry for having interrupted the girl's thoughts._

_ "Is everything okay?"_

_ "Yeah…" Emily lies down, snuggling Quinn to her chest as she wraps one long, slender leg over the other girl's own, pulling them even closer together. "I just… sometimes I think about…" She doesn't continue, which would confuse Quinn more if her primary objective in life right now was_ anything but_ getting to __sleep as fast as possible. "I just don't know what I'd do if I lost you."_

* * *

"Quinn, I don't want us to break up."

"I know. I don't want that either." _Far from it, actually._

"Then why do you have to stay away from us? I know it may be awkward for a little… given today's revelations I would be surprised if it wasn't. But I can't stand the thought of you not even hanging out with us. Avoiding us. Me." _Then you should be honest with me, Emily. I deserve that much after today._

"Look, I love you, and I definitely won't enjoy the days, weeks, hell, maybe the months that follow me walking out of here today. But I can't help but think that maybe there's something you haven't been telling me, either." The guilty that passes between Emily's eyes is enough for her to know she's right. "And that's fine. But until we can bring _all_ of our past traumas to the table I just think it would be better if we spent this time apart. We have to learn to trust each other, Emily. If we don't… well I can't see us surviving past senior year. And I want to have something special with you for much, much longer than that." Emily audibly gasps, something that Quinn would have expected from the more theatrical Aria, or, thinking in terms of home, Rachel. Then she realizes what she just said. She'd hinted at a long-term relationship. Yeah, they were headed there anyway, she thinks, but it was always a nonverbal "When the time comes we'll talk" kind of deal. Only now it's out there on the table. Right after Emily suggested they cool off.

"Quinn, I—

"I'll go now." She doesn't say "I love you" anymore. She knows that Emily can feel it, this love. And she's walking out the door and shaking back tears because she honestly doesn't know if Emily will _ever_ be ready to share whatever has caused her to hurt so much in the past.

* * *

Quinn isn't sure how she gets back home, but when she walks through the door she finds Judy Fabray waiting. For her part Judy looks confused as fuck, Quinn thinks, but she offers Quinn her hand and guides her up to her room, where Quinn dives into her pillows and waits for tears. She's all cried out.

When her mom comes back with a glass of water, Quinn says, "Well, she knows about Beth now, Mama. I explained everything to her."

"I'm proud of you, Quinnie." Judy strokes down her daughter's hair and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Quinn throws herself back onto her bed and fidgets with her phone. She promised Santana that she would let her know what was going on.

_**Hey San, so I told her. It was tough but not as bad as we thought it would be. We're on a break now.**_

The response is almost immediate, and Quinn laughs despite herself.

_**WTF? Do you need me to go Lima Heights Adjacent on her? Cause I can. Knock some sense in to the girl.**_

"Always the hothead," Quinn murmurs to herself as she types out a reply.

_**You'll do no such thing. It was a mutual decision, S. And I love her. So much that I don't know how I'm going to survive the next few... months, maybe.**_

The Latina's next text is surprisingly sweet, and Quinn can't help but snapshot it. It's that uncharacteristic.

_**Oh… well then, I hope things work out, Q. If you ever need anybody, you know I'm always here. You can count on me to cheer you up if you ever feel like shit. Love you, don't do anything loca. Or I'll go Snix on your ass.**_

Oh she won't, she thinks as she slips out of her grungy dress and hangs a clean towel on the rack in her en suite. She sighs as warm water runs over her muscles, slightly sore from her earlier exertions. _W__hat do I do with myself now?_

* * *

**A/N: That was much longer than expected, and I'm not sure if it's good or not. You tell me. And follow LazyWriterGirl on Twitter so's she can actually ya know, get her tweet on. ****Don't hate me, I LOVE THEM TOO YOU KNOW, but the girls need space. And time. And drama. Because I can. Anyway, you're all lovely, expect another chapter up sometime in the next week or two. Still trying to work out an appropriate writing schedule. ALSO. All of my love (more like... half of it?) to the first person to point out who Quinn's transfer student crush was. It isn't hard, guys. **

**SHOUT-OUTS (Hey, review and I'll add you in here ;) ) A special thanks to the guest who reviewed, but I'm going to be terrible and no longer involve guest-reviews in shout-outs. LOVE YOU ANYWAY.**

**ThePersonalityStudy: Glad you liked the back story! xD**

**hRrcK1224: Thanks for reviewing, hope this is good!**

**CustomHeroine: I'm glad you liked the flashbacks! I have a hard time writing light, fluffy stuff in the middle of a mostly angsty fic, so it means a lot that you enjoyed them! Hope you liked this!**

**Breyanaxo: Yeah, sorry about that, but at the heart of it I'm a nasty troll who lives to cliffie all of you. **

**dmpanda5: You have no idea how much it means to me when lovely people like you say such sweet things about my writing ability. I appreciate it deeply. And I really hope I did their conversation justice. It's not perfect, but I think I'm ok with how it turned out.**

**loveheather: You, dear friend, are adorable even though I have no idea who you are. Sorry that they didn't quite make-up as you'd hoped, but… yeah. And hey, I don't know why either, but I like you too ;)**

**That's all for now, this has been Kay saying "ANGST AND CLIFFIES AND QUINN TURNED HERSELF ON AT THE STOPLIGHT."**


	7. The Plans We Fail to Follow Through

**A/N: You guys are so, so good to me. If there are any suggestions you have for me, or things you want to see, please PM me or review so that I can work on making PNLTB even better than it currently is! As I've mentioned before, I am taking EXTREME liberties with canon, since I didn't feel like re-watching everything in order to sort my shit out. Apologies to those of you who really, really love the canon. But this is a crossover. Canons are to be shot to hell if they can be. More from me after the chapter! Stick around **

**Disclaimer: Once I kidnap Ryan and Marlene (and you know, everybody else important to Glee and PLL, actors aside) I will own it all. Until then I sit at a desk and type about how I will own the shows I currently do not profit from. At all.**

Now everyday ain't gonna be no picnic

Love ain't no walk in the park

All you can do is make the best of it now

Can't be afraid of the dark

~ Cheryl Cole, Fight For This Love

* * *

It's been two weeks and Emily is caving. June is crawling steadily towards them and the swimmer is worried that if they graduate and she doesn't have her girlfriend back, they'll never reconcile. She needs Quinn back in her life, and she needs her now. The fact that Hanna, Aria and Spencer seem ready to force them back together again has nothing to do with her decision. It actually doesn't. Emily can't help but purse her lips in thought as she picks her way through the semi-busy noontime streets of Rosewood, walking to Quinn's house. She's been dwelling on their fight, if it could be called that, for this whole time. It's been a rough few weeks. The blonde had made good on what she'd said during their last conversation. She hadn't – for two consecutive, unbearable weeks – texted, emailed, facebooked, called, talked to, or had anything at all to do with the Liars, even in their shared last period English class. The only exception of course being Spencer, with whom Quinn had been partnered for projects in nearly every subject. It was all out of respect for Emily and her privacy, as Quinn had mentioned to Spencer during one afternoon in the library. Emily remembers how she'd practically had to bribe Spencer to glean that small piece of information from the wealthy – hence why a bribe wouldn't have worked anyway – girl.

Emily sighs, saddened by the knowledge that her friends have all – aside from Spencer – lost frequent contact with their new friend on account of her suggesting the pair of them take a "break". To be honest though, the blonde is right in not hanging out with them like nothing had ever happened. It makes everything seem much less awkward.

Kicking at a rock, Emily muses over how just two weeks can be so busy. At first Emily worried for Quinn's social life. The once undisputed Queen of William McKinley High hadn't really expanded her circle of friends to include more than just Emily and her girls, and Emily was initially mortified at the thought of somebody picking on a lonely, unsupported Quinn. But that wasn't to be the case. Quinn has a plenty of friends from the photography club, and plenty of the other AP-track kids have taken to following her around campus, making sure she never has to deal with any hecklers, of which there are rarely any. She's queen-bee to these kids, Emily realizes, and the brunette even feels a certain jealousy whenever one of the particularly pretty girls from the photography club is around, which is often.

The girl, as Emily reminds herself, is Hanna's friend from fat camp. She's a tiny thing now though her body is home to some killer curves, maybe about Aria's height or a little taller, and she has a beautiful pair of eyes. They're brown like chocolate. Two days into Emily and Quinn's break, Hanna told Emily the girl's name is Alison – it would bother Emily more if this girl were blonde and looked like a doll come to life – and she and her mother moved to Rosewood from Wyoming (or is it Wisconsin?). The other girls all joked to Emily that Alison was sent by the Alison they'd lost as a final trick, one last form of torture for Emily. They stopped once they noticed the flush to Emily's face each time she spotted Quinn and Alison having a discussion in a corner of the library, surrounded by photographs. The worst part of all of this is that this Alison isn't even rude, or the slightest bit detestable. She's a good, sweet girl with a kind disposition, who seems to respect the fact that Emily and Quinn are still together even if they're never… together. She even told Hanna, who dutifully passed on the message to a slightly relieved Emily. The tall brunette can't help but think back on it and she's ashamed of her reaction to Quinn spending time with somebody who isn't her.

* * *

_"So Alison wanted to tell you something, but she didn't know how to approach you. I told her I'd just pass on the message," Hanna says at lunch one day. Emily nods, not really registering who the message is coming from or why Hanna's talking. "Emily!"_

_ "What?" The blonde clicks her teeth and nods her head to somebody behind Emily. The brunette turns back to see Quinn, a hope flaring up in her chest before burning out as the suddenly less happy blonde gives her a small smile and nod, turning away to talk to the pretty girl standing by her side. It's this girl that Hanna meant to grab the attention of. Her and Quinn's friend, Alison. Emily fights back her jealousy, suddenly interested in Hanna's, rather, Alison's message. "What did she want to tell me, Han?"_

_ "She just wanted you to know that she thinks Quinn is gorgeous," Hanna pauses to take a sip of her water, not noticing the slight pressure that Emily has placed on her plastic knife, scratching the surface of her paper plate. "Uh, what was I saying?"_

_ "Alison thinks that my girlfriend is gorgeous," Emily practically grinds her teeth at the possessive pronoun._

_ "Whoa there champ, relax. Uh… right. So Alison thinks Quinn is gorgeous and funny and really, really hot. So does like, everybody else Em, stop shooting her dagger-eyes. And put that down." Hanna pauses to gently smack the ridiculous "weapon" from Emily's now nearly-white fist. "Relax. She says that while she'd love to go out with Quinn, she knows Q will never ask her out because it's obvious that she's so obviously hung up on _you._ So she said she hopes you guys work out your shit. Oh and she wants to know if you'd stop glaring at her every time Quinn laughs at her jokes or shit like that." Emily hadn't realized she'd been staring so angrily. She turns back towards the pair of smiling girls and nods once, slowly, at Alison. The girl looks relieves and even flashes Emily a pretty, apologetic smile._

* * *

Emily feels bad that she'd been glaring at the poor, sunny girl the whole time. She does seem very sweet and Emily is sure that they can even become friends (she has the best sense of humour of pretty much everybody Emily's ever met, Hanna aside). Emily makes a mental note to go up to the girl and apologize in person. As soon as she has her girlfriend back, that is. Her phone rings just as she steps onto Quinn's street, so Emily pauses at a nearby tree and answers the call. It's Spencer.

"Hey, Em. You been to see Quinn yet?"

"I'm on her street."

"You know what you have to do, yeah?" Spencer's voice is confident, making Emily more assured of what she's planning to do.

"Yeah… but Spence… this is huge. What if she gets scared and doesn't want to be with me? What if she hates me forever?"

"Q isn't like that, Em, you know that. She may be frightened at first, but once she mulls things over she'll be perfectly fine with it. Besides, Han, Aria and I will also be there to help her understand things." Emily sighs. She has to tell Quinn about Mona and A, and all of the terrible things that A has said and done to them, or made them do. That's the job of the rest of the Liars too, though. Emily first needs to let Quinn know all about Alison, Maya, Ben, Samara and Paige… She has to get everything out there. All of it. And then Quinn will be proud of her and kiss her and love her until she doesn't feel the pain of any of those old traumas.

When Quinn tells her about this whole Lucy business that she'd mentioned in the forest months ago, along with whatever else she's is hiding, then Emily will return the favour and do her best to rid the blonde of any old troubles. And then they'll be happy and graduate and they'll get into universities that they want and they'll never break up even if they end up miles and miles apart. When they've graduated they'll get married and maybe they'll have kids, but before that they'll travel and they'll spend their whole lives in love. Emily reigns herself in to the sound of Spencer saying her name.

"Emily. Emily?"

"Sorry, Spencer. I just… God, I love her so much. I literally just thought about getting married and having kids." Emily thanks God that she was born with a natural tan that covers all but the most intense shades of red cheeks.

"You do have it bad. We're all rooting for you, Em. We actually miss you guys being so cutesy all the time. Can't wait to get back to that. But first…"

"I know," Emily sighs. "I know." She says goodbye to Spencer who wishes her luck and offers a final piece of advice.

"No matter what happens, you have to tell her, at least a little bit of it, today. No stalling anymore. If you don't, believe me, you may very well regret both deserve more than this headache you've created for yourselves." Turning towards the house, Emily begins to think up a way to begin the conversation. There are a number of things she could say.

"Quinn, I love you." Great way to deflect from the problem at hand. Emily tries again, feet slowing their pace to accommodate her thought process working on overdrive.

"Aria, Spencer, Hanna and I dealt with a crazy person called "A" sending us creepy text messages for a year." Nope. That wouldn't work. And it would be better to have all the girls with her, since A isn't solely her nightmare. She just needs to get the old relationship drama out of the way today.

"I know you wanted to put all of our traumas out there, so here I go. Rememver how I was always reluctant to tell you about my romantic past? Well, I'm not exactly starved for relationship experience… In the course of a few years I fell in love with my now-dead best friend who insisted that I was just practice for boys, dated a creepy wannabe-rapist, had a thing for Toby, accepted I was gay and dated a girl who I loved until she had to go away, tried and failed to have an out relationship with a girl who tried to drown me in the pool, dated a beautiful girl from another school and broke up with her because of a creepy nightmare-stalker from hell, went back to dating my first real girlfriend until she was killed…and dated and almost lost the girl I want to spend forever with. That last one is you, in case you thought I was hiding anything else. Any questions?" Emily scraps that one almost instantly. It's the most explanatory, yeah, but even accepting, loving Quinn would quirk one eyebrow at her before screaming for the psycho Emily is sure she'll appear to be to get the fuck out of her home. Maybe she isn't ready to tell Quinn everything, if she's having such a hard time. No, something has to be said today. At least about Alison. Or Maya. Oh God, what if Quinn leaves her for some other pretty girl with less emotional baggage? She doesn't even know Quinn's type! How can she get Hanna to sabotage other girls' prospects if she doesn't know what Quinn is looking for?

Emily is just about to work out another, hopefully better opener when she sees Quinn across the street, standing on her front lawn. The blonde is turned away from her, towards her house, but even then she's still beautiful in her light blue sundress. It's warm enough now that she only needs a three-quarter sleeve cardigan and there's no more need for stockings. Emily allows her eyes to rake themselves slowly over Quinn's backside. It's not creepy, they're dating. Those legs, that body, that beautiful, beautiful girl is hers, and Emily can feel the possessive pride seeping into her being. Quinn turns, profile facing Emily, to inspect a vehicle parked in her driveway. Emily doesn't recognize it as belonging to Mrs. Fabray or to Quinn herself. They must have visitors. Emily stands across the street, completely unnoticed and unable to move, as Quinn turns back to the house again and calls out to somebody. Emily wonders at whom it could be when, seconds later, she gets her answer.

It's Santana. Emily smiles briefly even though the other girl can't see it. She watches as Quinn practically lifts Santana into a hug before releasing the girl with reluctance akin to that of a child leaving their most prized teddy on the front porch. It's in this moment that Emily guesses at Quinn's type of girl. At least physically. She and Santana both have wavy, dark hair, dark brown eyes, and tan skin. They're both gorgeous; Emily admits this to herself almost shyly, though nobody else can hear her mental self-appraisal, and they both have beautiful physiques. From what Emily members about the Tori girl that Quinn had mentioned, she also fits the description. With this knowledge Emily feels her confidence wane in strength. She's a fairly uncommon commodity around Rosewood, where a majority of the pretty girls share more traits with… well, girls like Alison (the live one, not the dead one). No more fears about Quinn replacing her with some other girl if she ever were to get sick of waiting. Something Emily sternly reminds herself would never happen anyway. Emily pours so much of her concentration into berating herself that she doesn't really notice how Quinn has spotted her and is waving at her, a puzzled, yet undoubtedly affectionate smile gracing her lips.

Emily is so caught up in just watching Quinn watch her that she barely notices that more people have exited from the Fabray home. There's Santana's girlfriend Brittany, a tall, pretty –not quite as beautiful as Quinn or Santana, but still pretty and sweet-looking – girl with long, long legs and bright, friendly eyes. It's Brittany who literally throws Quinn up into an energetic hug before standing by her girlfriend, a look of utmost affection on her face as she gazes between the two. Quinn seems to have forgotten that Emily is there, or at least she doesn't feel the need to point out her girlfriend – they're still dating, they're still dating, Emily reminds herself – to her little group.

Or maybe Quinn's too busy watching as a tiny girl with a loud voice begins to talk animatedly. The fourth person on the lawn is somebody who Quinn mentions all the time, and thanks to the copious amounts of pictures that pop up on Quinn's newsfeed – this girl seems to be a compulsive tagger – Emily easily recognizes Broadway-star-in-the-making Rachel Berry. She's short, almost comically so compared to Brittany who practically towers over her. Emily takes a few steps closer, so that she's literally three lawns away. Thank goodness Quinn lives in the closed end of a crescent neighbourhood, or she'd be standing in the street like roadkill.

"We'll come and get her in a week or two, maybe spend the weekend. Sound good, Q?" Santana is loud enough that Emily can clearly hear the Latina's voice. Quinn laughs that charming laugh of hers and Emily practically melts. Who is Quinn going to be housing for a week or two, though? Maybe a pet or something Emily thinks, but that gets shattered to bits when a fifth girl steps out onto the front lawn. The first thing that Emily notices is how she seems to stick to Quinn's side, and the way that the blonde holds her safely tucked into her body.

She has blue eyes like Brittany's, but they're more sombre, even though they also shine with similar kindness. She's smiling at the group as they all say goodbyes to her, and with a gut-wrenching flash of recognition Emily takes in just how attractive she is. She's got a fair height to her, probably only an inch smaller than Quinn, and she's very, very thin. She looks unhealthy, Emily thinks, and yet she's still got a beautiful face. Despite her theory on Quinn's type, Emily feels uncomfortable all of a sudden. She watches, ashamed of how stalker-ish this whole ordeal seems, and yet she can't tear her eyes away from the scene before her. Santana drives off with Rachel and Brittany, leaving Quinn and the unnamed girl to wave goodbye until they can no longer see the car. Quinn says something to Nameless, rubbing her back gently. Nameless smiles and hugs Quinn, curling further into her, and Emily can't just sit there and watch as her girlfriend, the very same girl who essentially said she wanted them to last for a very long time with no specified ending, plants a sweet, chaste kiss to the girl's forehead.

"Lucy Quinn Fabray, a break isn't the same as a breakup!" Emily isn't quite sure why she just yelled that. She never yells. If anything she should have yelled at Quinn last month, during that conversation in her room, but she couldn't summon the rage. Now it just seems to be pouring out of her in waves.

"Emily? What are you talking about?" Quinn looks startled, and Nameless stands there looking terrified, her stupidly adorable blue doe eyes wide.

"You're cheating on me with her, aren't you?" Emily really doesn't know what's gotten into her; she has never ever yelled at Quinn like this before. Never. She can't come up with many instances of her doing this to anybody else, for that matter. And this whole "jumping to conclusions" behaviour is so characteristic of Spencer, not her.

"What? Cheating on you? With Marley? Babe, you have no idea what's going on!"

"You're right, I don't. So maybe I should leave you two to whatever this is, since I'm so out of the loop." Emily really, really wants to kick herself right now. The yelling, then the sassiness, the jumping the gun with judgements… what's gotten into her?

"Emily, wait! Please wait!" Emily turns around to watch as Quinn pinches the bridge of her nose and turns to Marley, speaking in a peaceful tone. "Marley honey, could you please go inside? Mama must be finished with those cookies by now. I want you to eat at least three of them, four if you can, and finish a glass of milk at least. Drink water when you're done." Marley nods and turns back to the house. Before Emily can protest, Quinn is grabbing her arm and leading her through to the backyard gate. Just as they're about to go through, a gentle touch on Emily's arm stops her, and despite Quinn's firm grip on her other arm, Emily stops walking and turns to face Marley. The skinny brunette is standing there bravely, with a look that's the halfway house between compassionate and terrified.

"You're Quinn's girlfriend," Marley says, and she has a mellow, kind voice. It's lovely.

"Yes, and you must not have known that it's a terrible thing to act so flirty with somebody who's taken." Emily thinks that maybe it's Hanna's occasionally snarky attitude that has begun to rub off on her.

"I… I'm not flirting with Quinn. I mean, I love her, but I don't like girls that way," Marley says point blank, knocking Emily's wrath down a rung or two. "I didn't mean to cause trouble. Sorry, Quinn," Marley turns sadly to the blonde who just smiles kindly in return. "Sorry, Emily, if I gave you the wrong idea." Marley flashes another apologetic smile Emily's way and turns around, walking into the Fabray home before Emily can even yell out a sorry. Emily stands there stock still, waiting for Quinn to yell at her or laugh at her, or both. She doesn't. Instead, the ex-Cheerio sighs, takes her girlfriend's hand, and leads her completely through the gate to the Fabray's back "garden", as Judy Fabray seems hell-bent on referring to it. There's a single swing placed conveniently underneath the shade of a large tree. It's made of wood and padded with a soft looking material, not hard plastic like at a kiddie playground. Quinn sits and gestures for Emily to sit beside her. They're so close that Emily has to wrap an arm around the blonde's waist to stay seated. Quinn rests her head on the brunette's shoulder and doesn't speak. She doesn't move. Emily just allows herself to enjoy this moment, though she's extremely sorry and mortified over what just transpired.

"Oh Emily," Quinn sighs, "What am I going to do with you, baby?" Emily doesn't respond, just pulls Quinn into her side more tightly. "What came over you? You've never been that loud or angry before… at least, not in so upfront a manner. Marley is Rachel's protégé in glee club. She's a sophomore… and has some serious body-image issues. McKinley had to be closed down for fumigation or something related to Asian Bird Flu, I don't know, but anyway, they have three weeks off school. Seeing as how being pregnant taught me how to care for my body, Santana suggested they bring Marley to me. I'm supposed to help her get better." Emily relaxes a bit at the explanation. It's clear that Quinn isn't trying to slip out of something unsavory. "Oh, and even if she were into girls... Not my type. Not to mention, she's dating Puck's brother." When Emily still doesn't reply the blonde sighs again and snuggles into the swimmer, gently rubbing a pattern onto her denim-clad thigh. Emily's anger flares again at the divertive conversation route – she doesn't want to talk about the girl she just made a fool of herself in front of – but the rage calms when she realizes that Quinn isn't trying to be distracting. She just must not know what else to say.

"I came here today because I wanted to tell you...," A nagging fear catches her voice in her throat and Emily actively changes track, "Why is Marley here, if she's not your girlfriend-on-the-side?" Emily glances at her girlfriend's thoughtful expression. When Emily's question sinks in she wrinkles her nose up slightly in annoyance, as if to say "Really? I literally just went over this…" It's so endearing that Emily can't do much else. She leans in and places her lips on Quinn's, triumph surging through her when Quinn lets a soft, hungry moan push past her own. It's a short-lived triumph.

"Please leave." Quinn is eyeing her lips like she just really wants to kiss some more, making for one very confused Emily.

"Why?" Emily can't really work anymore rage up today. It was too much effort, her earlier outburst. Quinn however, seems ready to explode. "I've missed you so much Quinn. You have no idea."

"Emily, you suggested that we take a break. I respected that. I've not contacted you, or even pushed anything to you through the girls, for two weeks. In that time you've managed to scare one of my good friends into worrying about being seen with me. You've seemed more than happy not speaking to me either. And yet today you barge onto my lawn screaming about me cheating on you with a girl you've never seen before. A girl who happens to be two years younger than us, straight, and just getting over a bulimia-induced hospital visit. Then I take you back here to try and talk to you, and you act like you're mute for at least twenty minutes. Then you finally speak, and it's only to ask me a question about Marley who, as we've established, has nothing to do with our relationship. You then kiss me. What am I supposed to make of all this, Emily?"

"I love you," Emily says simply. She must admit, even if only to herself, that a worked up Quinn Fabray is a wonderful thing indeed.

"This isn't the time for you to be deflecting, Emily. I love you too, but I told you, until we're both able to talk about the gory details of our past, I need to give you space."

"Quinn, I don't need space. I need you, and that's why I came here today to tell you about everything I've been keeping back from you," Emily says seriously. The joy flashing through Quinn's eyes is inexplicably striking in the midday light, and Emily can't help but want to kiss the blonde again.

"Really?" Emily nods. Quinn's smile is infectious, and for a while she's even able to convince herself that she can do this. Only she can't. "Whenever you're ready, I'm listening."

Emily takes in a deep breath. She allows her gaze to linger on Quinn's for a while longer. She's about to tell her everything. Alison, her first love, being killed by an enraged Mona after one too many pranks and tricks, harsh blows made by Alison to the girl's already whittled-down self-esteem. How Toby had saved her from Ben, everything else that followed that. A in general, everything that Mona had done to the girls when killing Alison hadn't been enough to kill her feelings of rejection and humiliation. Everything. And just as she's about to open her own personal Pandora's box, she stops. She can't believe that the first conversation she's going to have with her girlfriend after two solid weeks of non-contact is about her dead first-love, among other things. She's scared too, so scared of what Quinn will say, and even though she knows that she should be brave – Quinn was so confident, telling her about Beth – she knows that she can't do this right now. Emily isn't ready. Quinn seems to realize this, since she nods and rubs Emily's shoulder affectionately.

"Emily, baby, if you're not ready I can wait. But I also stand by what I said. You'll have to leave…" Quinn says sadly, like she really can't take this anymore just like how Emily can't. Emily can't help it; she's just missed Quinn so much. Entwining their hands together Emily closes the gap between her lips and the blonde's, shivering at the pleasant sensation of Quinn's hitched breath so close to her. She gently pushes forwards, only to meet with thin air as Quinn abruptly pushes herself off of the swing. "Emily." Hearing her name tumble so sadly from her girlfriend's lips feels like both exile and compulsion. But she leaves, anyway.

Spencer and the girls are going to be disappointed as fuck.

* * *

**A/N: I'm currently on a European tour with friends and judging by my travel companions we'll be spending quite some time in nature, where I often feel inspired to write in a journal (kickin' it old school). This means that when we get back to the hotel it's typing time. I may have another chapter up before week's end, maybe not. For this chapter, I felt like being nice and giving you some happy-times but then I apparently changed my mind while editing. Warning. Happy shall not last very long ever... EVER. At all. So be prepared for that, my dears. Aaaaaand I hope you enjoyed the Marley cameo. I just like her. A lot. So I threw her in because I can. **

**SHOUT-OUTS TO:**

**Breyanaxo: As the first to identify Tori as being Tori Vega of Victorious you get… HUGS AND KISSES. And candy canes (screw them being "seasonal")! FOUR FOR YOU BREYANAXO, YOU GO BREYANAXO! And I'm glad you enjoyed the "confrontation" last chapter. **** Thank you for your continued support of me and (more importantly) this story**

**dmpanda5: Thank you so much for continually reviewing and always making me feel good about what I'm writing! **** I'm glad you love this! Hope I can keep up the quality **

**Thank you guys who've followed/favourited/anonymously reviewed as well. Guys, please let me know what you think! **

**AND FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO'VE READ UP UNTIL HERE, HERE'S A SNEAK PEEK OF CHAPTER 8 JUST FOR YOU! From like… somewhere in the middle of chapter 8, I think... hehe. Shit is about to go DOWN.**

It's been a week since Emily accidentally blew up at Marley, poor thing, and Quinn has been even more elusive than ever, especially since she managed to get Marley a pass to sit with her in class. It's a part of Quinn's plan to help the girl overcome her bulimia and poor body-image, Emily understands, but she can't help but feel jealousy at the waifish girl's time being spent solely with Quinn each and every day. That's why Emily's smile leaps straight to her eyes as her phone rings out B.O.B and Taylor Swift's "Both of Us". Cheesy, she knows, but it's kind of relevant. From the foot of her bed, Hanna and Caleb turn to face her with curious gazes. Aria has family commitments to deal with and Spencer and Toby are on their way over; no doubt they'll be as curious as she is. Why is Quinn calling now, all of a sudden, if she's managed to avoid contacting Emily at all for another full week? "Quinn?"

"Emily," Quinn's voice is a husky whisper. "Emily I need you." She hears a quiet whimpering and immediately Emily's eyes widen. It sounds like Marley, which only fuels her curiosity further. There's a panic in Quinn's voice unlike anything she's ever heard. The girl is distraught.

"Baby, where are you? What's wrong?"

"Russell," Quinn whispers. It takes Emily a minute or two to realize that Russell is the name of Quinn's estranged, homophobic father. "He just stormed in, drunk and angry… scared poor Marley, thank God we managed to… I don't know how he found us here."

"Quinn…" Emily is startled when a man's angry screams hit her ears. "Quinn? Quinn!"

"Emily please come and get us. Please." Emily practically leaps off the bed, practically colliding into Spencer and Toby as they enter the room.

"Where are you in the house?"

"I'm locked in the main floor bathroom with Marley. I think he's in the dining room. There have been loud noises coming from there for a while…" Quinn stops speaking abruptly and the man's voice is screaming louder now, accompanied by a loud banging noise. It's all so violent sounding that Emily wants to punch Russell Fabray in the face. She motions for Hanna, Caleb, Spencer, and Toby to follow her as she makes her way downstairs.

"Quinn, don't move. You and Marley stay there. We'll be there soon." She doesn't trust herself to drive, tossing her keys at Spencer. "Stay on the phone with me."

"Please hurry, Emily. The last time my father was like this…" Emily waits for what Quinn is going to say, and it strikes her that the fear is gone from her girlfriend's voice. A hard, cold rage has replaced it. "He nearly killed Mama."


	8. Happy Never Lasts Forever

**A/N: So I realized as I re-read my last chapter that I'd been writing this chapter as following Emily. However, seeing as how I've formed a pattern in which each Emily-centric chapter is followed by one that's Quinn-centric, I had to re-work what I'd written thus far. And once again, MAJOR canon liberties here. Like, shot-it-to-kingdom-come amount of liberties, I think, maybe not. Hope you find it just as exciting as the sneak peek, in any case! **** See you after the chapter, folks.**

**Disclaimer: In my version of these shows, the ladies of PLL attend McKinley, Karofsky, Noel Kahn, and Ben all get their asses handed to them by Hanna, Spencer and Santana on the regular, and Quinn is the harbinger of all Maury-esque relationship troubles, being made to decide between forming Faberry, Quinntana, Fabrastings, and whatever Emily and Quinn are called together (Quinnily?). Too bad I don't own anything, huh?**

And for your love  
I would do anything  
Just to see you smile upon your face  
For your love  
I would go anywhere  
Just you tell me and I'll be right there

~ Stevie Wonder, For Your Love

* * *

The rest of the weekend, Quinn tries not to think about Emily too much. She sets up a fairly strict workout regimen for Marley, as well as coming up with a handful of good ideas by way of nutritional conditions the brunette has to meet each day. Come Monday, Quinn has thought about Emily and her almost-confession more than fifty times (not that she's counted) but she's trying her hardest not to appear as bothered as Marley seems to think she is. It definitely helps that she's been able to score Marley a visitor's pass for the next two weeks (who knew that was even a thing) on the grounds of her helping the young girl to "overcome personal challenges". With Marley around, Quinn is so focused on making sure that the younger girl feels comfortable that she doesn't even notice the sad glances and half-smiles that Emily shoots her way during their study period in the library. She doesn't notice how dodgy Aria and Hanna seem to be all of a sudden, skipping down hallways at her approach. In fact, Quinn is so distracted that she doesn't notice how usually-super-focused Spencer has been texting under the table all throughout Biology. It isn't until the last period warning bell rings that Quinn even notices how strangely Spencer is acting. And even then, it's because Marley calls her attention to it as they're walking past the main office.

"Um… Spencer? Are you, you know, okay?"

"Hmm, what… oh, yes, I'm fine." Spencer smiles at the girl kindly. "Hey… Q is that your mom?" Judy Fabray is standing in the office and waving, gesturing to Marley.

"What? Oh… yeah. Marley, she must be here to pick you up for therapy," Quinn says. Marley smiles sweetly and nods, giving the girls quick goodbye hugs as she turns to go. They watch her meet up with Quinn's mom and walk out of the building, Quinn never noticing how Spencer has begun to take her in the opposite direction from their English class. She doesn't have time to question the brunette, and soon enough they're standing in the parking lot beside Spencer's Toyota Highlander. Hanna and Aria are waiting there, and apparently have been for quite some time.

"Took you long enough!" Hanna grouses only half-jokingly.

"Sorry, I didn't really know how to get Quinn alone." Spencer is shooting Quinn apologetic glances and really she's just so fucking confused that she can't even say anything.

"It's 'cuz you're not Emily and this isn't a bedroom." Aria slaps Hanna's shoulder a bit harder than she normally would for that one. They all pile into the Highlander without her, and for a second Quinn hesitates. She can walk away right now and head into English. Sure it means sitting literally a desk away from Emily, and with no Spencer to create a wall between them Quinn is not actually sure that that would be a good idea, but it may very well beat the alternative. Too late, she makes a decision to go back, only to find that she's already been tugged into the vehicle by Hanna.

She finds her voice in time to ask, "Where are we going, exactly?" just as they exit the school parking lot.

"We have to talk." Aria says, and she turns back from the passenger seat to give Quinn a smile. "This is ridiculous, Quinn. It's been long enough." Hanna nods and pats Quinn's arm.

"We heard about what Emily did on Saturday. She's really, really sorry. She just didn't know how to tell you… what she plans on telling you."

"So we decided that, since half of what she's been keeping from you is our predicament as well, we'd lend our assistance to you and give you guys the push you need to restart your relationship," Spencer says from behind the wheel, eyes never leaving the road. Quinn's mind is whirring. So there really is some big thing involving the girls. She's had suspicions for a while now, but never anything that could have been proven without the honest admissions of the others.

"So… why did you not bring Emily with us?" Quinn asks. Spencer sighs.

"We thought about it. She should be around when we tell you, but since we can tell you most of what she would, we decided that it would be more practical to have her miss out on the first half of our conversation… I've invited her over after her swimming practice, so she'll be along, in any case." There's no more talking until Spencer's driveway swells into view in front of them, and it's with some dawdling that Quinn gets out of Spencer's SUV. They bring her into the barn and close the doors behind them, and all of a sudden Quinn wants to throw up. By the looks on their faces, Quinn guesses they've got more to tell her about than a covered up pregnancy, a nose job, name change, severe weight loss, and a case of the super-bitch.

* * *

"So what you're saying to me… Is that this Mona girl, who used to be an outcast before being an It girl with Hanna, killed your friend Alison and then went on to terrorize you guys for almost two years?" Quinn really did think about throwing up every so often during the girls' story. It's bizarre and terrifying, and if they didn't look so serious throughout it all Quinn would assume they were just being assholes and lying. But no, they've done enough of that to know that now is not the time. And Quinn still has yet to hear "Emily's piece" in all of this.

"Quinn… we know how scary it sounds, but please don't be scared." Aria pleads. Quinn can tell that they're worried about her possible reaction. If she's honest with herself, she doesn't actually feel all that angry, though yes, she is terrified slightly. It's more like she admires how, throughout it all, they stuck together and did what they thought was best. It's been a hard road for them, she can see it, and they're weary to the point of backbreaking relief that the whole affair is over and done with for good.

"I… well you say it's over. How are you so sure?" She just wants to learn as much as she can. It would explain so much.

"Caleb and Toby found out about what Mona was doing and, with a lot of patience and even more luck, they caught her while she was running through the forest after trying to kill Spencer in her shower." Aria's face is point-blank as she says it and Quinn can feel herself blanch. Whoever this Mona girl is, she had serious problems. "The police dealt with her, and everybody that had ever been affected by her sick games was informed. People thought that sticking her at Radley would only be a temporary fix, so they shipped her off to some sanitarium in Europe. We have no idea what's become of her there."

Quinn nods, slowly. This is proving to be an excess amount of information that she can't truly process. She's able to take a few basic points away from it all thanks to her analytic mind, but not much else. The girls have all been to pretty much hell and back as Mona (as A) practically tortured them and tried to ruin them. More often than not they'd been in life-threatening situations and plenty of people were killed, including Emily's first girlfriend, Maya. The whole town of Rosewood is aware of what happened now, and the people seem to be attempting to forget about this dark episode in the town's history. It would ruin the beauty of the place.

"Q, are you okay? We can call Emily and tell her that you've decided to go home, if that's what you want." Hanna is oddly considerate, Quinn notes, but it could be due to the fact that she and two of her best friends have just atomic-bombed Quinn with the truth. She shakes her head; she can do this. She may not be ready to hear about Emily's "love-saga" (Hanna and her silliness still win a smile from her, despite their conversation topic), but she needs to see her girlfriend now. They sit and wait for Emily, who should be there soon. Quinn asks a few more questions, and now that she's heard it before she's able to piece more things together. They supply her with as much knowledge as she seems to go for, evidently glad that she hasn't up and run away.

* * *

"Guys… what's going on? Quinn!" Emily's eyes light up like a child's and it's so adorable that Quinn can't resist picking herself up off the floor and running into the swimmer's arms. She smells good, Quinn thinks, like fresh strawberries and almond milk.

"I can't believe you've all been through so much! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Quinn realizes that she has tears in her eyes and Emily is holding onto her waist like she's afraid to let go of the blonde. "All of you… you've been so brave." She rushes to Hanna before the blonde can crack a joke and throws her arms around her friend. It's odd, Quinn knows, she's never been like this, all hugs and tears and praises being sung. The other girls don't seem to mind as she pulls them all towards her and just holds them. Maybe it's because in comparison, her personal struggles seem more mundane and ordinary than they ever did. Maybe she's just thankful for them being alive and well, here, and not dead like some of the more unfortunate souls they've been around since this whole thing began. Maybe it's a bit of both. A small noise comes from where Emily is still standing and they all break apart and look up.

"Wait… you guys told her? About A?" Emily's face is twisted up in confusion. Quinn nods at her girlfriend, who immediately seems to relax a little.

"Yes… they said you have more to tell me, about your personal business, but I don't think I could take much more of this today." They all laugh at that, and with a "We'll leave you two… alone," from Hanna the other girls are out of the barn, their part played for the mean time.

"You're not angry?" The first thing out of Emily's mouth. Quinn shakes her head. They sit on a couch and don't speak for a few minutes, just staring at the wall across from them, before Quinn breaks the silence. She's sick of things being awkward between herself and her girlfriend. Now that she knows "half of a whole soap-opera" (Hanna's title for her, Aria, and Spencer's tale) she's pretty sure she can't deal with she and Emily being on a break anymore. Time to fix this.

"I'm too shocked to be angry. I just… when you were saying that you were ready to tell me about what bothers you I thought you were going to tell me you weren't over an ex who moved away, or that you all fought over some guy, something stupid and typical, like what I've been keeping from you." Quinn's voice is shaky and she knows that Emily must be surprised that she's crying because she feels the brunette pull her into her lap. It takes a good minute of Quinn just being held in those arms that she loves before she's able to speak again. "There were so many times when I thought I was going to be sick. When they talked about how you almost got killed in that greenhouse… I didn't know how to react. They told me about Ben, and about Nate, and I just wanted to throw up, or pinch myself and pretend that I had dreamt the whole scenario up."

Emily holds her as she fights the tears back, and then it's the brunette's turn to speak. "So you know about everything… except for my "personal business"." Quinn nods into Emily's shoulder. "Q, look at me." The blonde obliges and the sadness and joy in Emily's eyes is both confusing and perfectly understandable. "I know that I still owe you half of the story… but I can't do this anymore. I need you with me."

"Can we be in love again?" Quinn asks. Her voice is smaller than she thought it would ever sound. Emily smiles and it's the most beautiful thing in the world.

* * *

It's been five days since they officially ended their break, but Quinn still has yet to spend more than an hour or so with Emily and the other girls. Once, during lunch, Emily asks Quinn if it's because she hasn't told her about her romantic life, but it isn't. Really, it isn't. It's just that Marley has been having some issues and Quinn really wants her to be healthy, and love herself for the beautiful person she is. Without the forced vomiting. On this Saturday morning she's already given a few pep-talks to a frustrated Marley. This damper on her mood is lightened by a note the girls find on the island counter when they go downstairs for lunch.

_Quinnie, Marley, I'll be out for the rest of the day. I have to go babysit for Frannie, she and John have gone to visit your father, Quinnie. Love you. Stay out of trouble, girls._

Quinn tucks the note away, and though she has a grin on her lips she can't help but feel a slight drop in her stomach. Her sister lives in that big city between Rosewood and the border, so her mother will probably spend the night there, leaving the two girls to do as they please. She and Marley don't really want to do anything, but they end up deciding for a light jog to help Marley get back into shape. After that, they take a trip down to the theatre and watch one movie, then another, until it's started dimming outside. Quinn is doing her best mother-hen impression on the younger girl, who seems to be embarrassed at the efforts of her hostess. Quinn, for her part, is really just trying to get Marley (and herself) to relax. They've been on edge since this morning, albeit for different reasons.

"Today was good," Quinn says, tucking a stray strand of hair behind the younger girl's ear before standing to stretch. Marley smiles and nods, body mimicking Quinn's as they prepare for the walk back.

"It was really nice to just have fun for once. I'm sorry about this morning though, Quinn… I don't mean to be such a bother to you, but it's so difficult, sometimes…"

"Hey," Quinn says, and she stops walking so that Marley has to look at her. "I know how hard it must be for you. I had body issues too, especially after Beth. But I learned to respect myself and my body, and you will too. It will take some time, Marls, but you can do it." Marley just squeezes Quinn's hand and the two continue to walk through the streets, Quinn being stopped every so often by somebody to say hello. They all ask if she and Emily are doing alright now and Quinn nods, the knowing gaze of her eyes telling them that she's now up to speed with Rosewood's dirty little secrets. Quinn can't shake the mass of worry that's accosted her stomach, though she brushes it off as nothing.

"You know, I think you and Emily are meant for each other," Marley says as they make their way into the neighbourhood. Quinn smiles at that. _Meant for each other. _She likes the sound of that.

"What makes you say that?"

"You just seem to fit. Like… she's made up of whatever's missing in you. Not that you guys aren't completely awesome separately," Marley says with a shy laugh. Quinn hugs the girl to her side. It's been an interesting week, bonding with the sophomore. Despite her own troubles she always shows concern at whatever Quinn is up against. Marley Rose is a veritable sweetheart, Quinn thinks.

"Thanks. I'm sure Em will be glad to hear that Hanna's not the only one who's convinced that we belong together," Quinn jests. Marley laughs. She's spent enough time with the other blonde to know that from Hanna, even compliments are often taken a bit differently than they were meant. They don't say anything else, just share in the laughter for a bit more. Quinn begins to reach for her keys, but is surprised to find the door unlocked. She frowns. She's sure she locked it. Marley, thirsty from all of the butter they'd asked for on their popcorn, makes her way to the kitchen, and when her scream hits Quinn's ears the blonde swears she almost jumped out of her skin.

"Are you the filthy, depraved whore that turned my daughter away from God?!" a man's voice bellows. Quinn doesn't bother wasting her breath on screaming for the younger girl, instead bolting into the kitchen.

"Ah, there you are, Quinnie." The blond man turns to face his estranged daughter, not even caring when Marley rushes past him into Quinn's arms. "Still allowing Satan to corrupt your heart."

Quinn freezes. "Russell…" She's not seen her father for more than a half year, the last time being when he kicked her out of the house due to his bigotry being stronger than his sense of being a father. He seems even bigger than he had back then. And his large hands are clenched into fists, skin taut over white knuckles. In both fists he holds two empty beer bottles by the necks.

"Good thing you still remember your father." He sways a little, as if drunk, and knowing what's coming, Quinn releases Marley, keeping them connected only by their hands. She pulls the girl out of the kitchen just as Russell's left hand snaps back, then forward, launching one of the beer bottles at Quinn's head. It misses, thank God, but the splintering glass that's created from the impact of the bottle on the wall showers down on the two girls. Marley has the sense not to scream and Quinn drags her into the main hall washroom. She's suddenly more than thankful that there are so many fucking doors in this hallway, and she prays that he'll look for them upstairs first as she locks the door and shoves a stool underneath the handle. They don't bother with lights, instead grabbing their phones and allowing the screens to illuminate their faces. Quinn briefly marvels at the sophomore's ability to stay calm. Apart from the initial shock, she's not screamed since. "QUINNIE! COME BACK AND TALK TO YOUR FATHER!" The sound of dishes being thrown about is terrifying, and Quinn feels like a child again. But she hasn't the time to reminisce. Not now, anyway.

"Quinn, I'm trying to call the police, but all of the operators seem to be busy…" Marley's voice is oddly soft, and it takes Quinn a while to realize that the brunette is choking back little sniffles. She tries her best to calm the brunette, but her own panic is seeping through. Of course tonight of all nights would be the night when Judy isn't home, Russell is on a drunken rampage, and the police are even more useless than usual. Of course. Thunderous footfalls and slewed-together curses bombard them and Marley's whimpering grows more audible, forcing Quinn to slap a hand over the girl's mouth. She waits until she can hear the footsteps echo from upstairs and allows herself to relax just a little bit. Russell will take a while to search the whole upper floor, especially when he finds the alcohol Quinn's been hiding in the guest room since the last sleepover she'd had with the Liars.

"Shh.. Marley I know, I know how scary this is. Please, just keep on trying the police department." The blue-eyed girl nods, her eyes wet with fear. She huddles into Quinn's side and attempts to contact the police once more.

"Who are you calling?" Marley whispers as Quinn fiddles with her phone, placing it to her ear with a shaky hand.

"Shh…Emily. It's Saturday, so hopefully she's with Spence and Han. Maybe they can help…" Quinn waits with astounding patience as the phone rings.

"Hey baby, we were just talking about how much we all miss you." Quinn can't help but smile before remembering why she'd called. Madman father. Upstairs. Drunk. Violent.

Shit.

"Emily," her voice is a husky whisper, "Emily I need you." Quinn's hazel eyes widen as she hears her own voice pass her mouth. There's a panic in it that she's never heard before. Distraught is the word. Marley's whimpers have begun to pick up again as the police department seems to still be unreachable.

"Quinn… babe what's wrong? Where are you? Is that Marley?"

"We're okay for now… but… Russell," Quinn pauses for a moment, afraid that he'll realize where they are if she says his name too loudly. "We went to the movies to take Marley's mind off things, and when we got back he was here. Already drunk. He threw a beer bottle at us. Thank God I managed to… I don't know how he found us here." Her mouth is forming words faster than her brain can put them into sentences and Quinn struggles with her urge to break down into tears. She's never been this terrified before. Not as a young adult, anyway.

"Quinn…" Russell's angry voice is screaming about whores-who-disrespect-God's-wishes and his disappointment-of-a-child-bound-to-burn-in-eternal -damnation. It's closer now, he's in the main hall. Quinn knows that her girlfriend can hear the man's voice. She shudders as his steps become slower, more purposeful.

"Emily… please come and get us. Please."

"Where are you in the house?" She can hear people moving and from the sounds of it, Toby and Caleb are with the girls as well. Quinn silently thanks whoever's listening to her thoughts. She's all for feminism, but she's scared of what may happen to the Liars at Russell's hands.

"We're in the main hall washroom. Marley's been trying to reach the police department for at least ten minutes now. Nobody is picking up."

"Okay. Honey stay calm, we're on our way. Stay on the phone with me." Emily whispers calming words to her and she would put the girl on speaker if she weren't afraid of being caught. Marley has given up on calling the police and is curled in a ball, head on Quinn's lap. Russell's voice is heard from around the dining room, Quinn guesses, and she hopes he's not drinking any more. From experience, she knows that the higher his blood alcohol level, the lower his regard for decency. And the higher his penchant for violence.

"Please hurry, Emily." Quinn's tone is frantic when she hears the sound of a car starting over the phone. "The last time Russell was like this…" she pauses, the memory rushing through her veins like acid. Her voice when she speaks next is a hardened, cold shard of rage. "He nearly killed Mama." She can hear Emily's breath catch at her last words. She's sure that her sensistive girlfriend is about to say something, but she cuts the girl off with a quick "Hold on", placing her ear as close to the door as she dares.

Russell is back in the main hallway. From the sound of it, he's just going to go about kicking doors until he's met with resistance. She hangs up the phone despite Emily's noises of protest. As soon as she does, her phone begins to buzz loudly in her hand. It's Frannie.

"Quinn… Quinn where are you?" Her sister sounds confused, which should be Quinn's first warning that something is seriously wrong. Even more wrong than the fact that her father has definitely located her and Marley. He's leaning against the door – the hefty bulk of his shadow can be made out from the small slit of free space between the wood and the carpet – and whispering about how Quinn can be saved, but only if she repents her disgusting ways. "Quinnie… is that Daddy? Oh my God. John… JOHN!" Quinn can't hear much else. She picks out the words "police" and "I don't fucking care, go now!" before her phone decides to die. Well shit.

Marley looks up at her, all cried out, and Quinn can't think of anything else to do. She settles into a more comfortable position and cradles the younger girl in her arms, allowing her tears to flow freely now. A few awful minutes pass before Russell, clearly bored with speaking to the wood of the door, begins to shout his abuse full-force, startling the teenagers trapped inside. Just when Quinn is pretty sure the wood is going to splinter like something out of The Shining, the sound of the front door banging open is heard, followed by Toby and Caleb collectively shouting at Russell to "Get the fuck away from the door!" It's ridiculous, but the second Quinn hears the sound of the struggle, she calms down immediately. There seems to be a real fight going on, so Quinn keeps the door locked, though she removes the stool from underneath the door handle. It's another five minutes before somebody attempts to jiggle the handle and Quinn grabs the container of Comet her mother keeps under the sink. She desperately hopes she won't have to use it. Behind her, Marley grabs the plunger and brandishes it like a caveman would his club.

With trepidation Quinn unlocks the door and throws herself through it, only to find herself caught up in Toby's warmth. She looks up at him, disbelieving, until his kind eyes smile back at her. He has bruises on his face already, and Caleb seems to be holding his wrist gingerly, a gash marring his cheek. "Oh thank God… where's Russell?" Caleb points to the end of the hallway nearer the dining room. There lies Russell Fabray, unconscious but clearly still alive. Quinn doesn't even feel the urge to check up on him. The bastard probably would have killed her and Marley given the chance. She casts a worried eye over the brunette in question, who, despite shaking something like a wet kitten, seems alright. Knowing her father, he may have done worse to Marley…

"Quinn!" Quinn springs from Toby's arms to land in Emily's, and she begins to sob in earnest as the other girls huddle in around her and Marley. Everybody is cooing and nobody seems ready to ask questions. They just hold the two girls until all of the tears are gone, and then Spencer gently prods Quinn with a few questions.

"What happened, Quinn?"

"I…" she casts another glance at her father. His body makes her feel uncomfortable. Spencer seems to understand this, and the boys drag the Fabray patriarch into the linen closet, asking Quinn for the key when they've closed the door. Toby locks the man into the closet and hands Quinn the keys. "I don't know how he even knew we were living here. Nobody's told him. Mama certainly hasn't."

"Was he here when you guys got home?" Hanna asks, concern blazing up in her eyes. Quinn nods.

"He scared me… I thought he was a burglar before he accused me of… being Quinn's girlfriend." Marley's doe eyes are impossibly huge, and Aria comforts the girl with soothing little coos, smoothing her hair down. Emily can't suppress a shudder as she glances at the closet. The man inside is a homophobe who nearly killed – they don't know if he would've, but judging from the fight he gave Caleb and Toby, it isn't improbable – poor, innocent little Marley. And Quinn. Poor Quinn. The girls stand in the midst of the ruined house, unsure of what to do next. It's Hanna who begins to move first, making her way for the door.

They all turn to follow suit, unsure of what else to do.

Then there are sirens sounding off and bright lights flooding the otherwise sleepy lawns of the neighbourhood.

"Quinn? Quinn! Quinn, are you hurt?" Quinn isn't sure who's calling for her, until she sees her brother-in-law standing before her.

"John?" Quinn doesn't get the chance to say much else. She's suddenly falling into Emily even more. Fuck no, Quinn Fabray does _not_ faint, she thinks, but she's barely got time to think it when the darkness clouds her vision and she loses all worldly feeling. Of all the rotten fucking luck. And things were going so, so well...

**A/N: Trying to get the next chapter up soon, seeing as this will be a hell-of-a confusing chapter without explanation… or maybe you'll have to wait. ;) Hehe. Don't you just love when your thoughts are just as fragmented as those of the characters you're reading about? Anyway, I understand that the pacing of this chapter may seem weird and rushed to some, or perhaps nicely done to others. Let me know where you sit with this. And thank you to everybody who follows/favourites/anonymously reviews! Love you! And to those of you who read but don't do any of the above… I still love you too. Just… not so much? Kidding!**

**SHOUT-OUTS TO:**

**Breyanaxo: You deserve enthusiasm, since you're constantly reviewing and everything! I've half a mind to write a story dedicated to you, once I'm done with this, as thanks for sticking with me and my trolling ways. Thank you so much for always letting me know what you thought. It's highly appreciated, I assure you. And I apologize again. I can't seem to stop trolling though.**

**dmpanda5: I'm not too sure about this chapter, lemme know your thoughts? And thank you so much for constantly reviewing. I'm also seriously considering offering to dedicate something to you as well… your loyalty to and praise of this story is always humbling.**

**I KNOW I SAID I WOULD STOP THANKING GUESTS, but Narcissist123, whoever you are, YOU my friend are amazing. I've not seen both British and French slang terms used in a review for one of my stories… ever. So kudos to you for that.**

**More reviews means Kay wants to write more. ;) Follow LazyWriterGirl on Twitter if you can/want to. PM me if you don't want to leave a review for whatever reason. Or don't. Your call. Mwah, 'til next time dears! **


	9. Be Relieved, Cry Into Me

**A/N: I think we're heading closer and closer to a finale, folks. Like literally this and then maybe one or two more. As usual, you all have been great. I cannot believe how supportive you've been… Now let's get into some Judy and Emily bonding and other stuff. Oh, and just a hint (faster updates mean I'm pleased with you guys... not that I can stay away for very long regardless)**

**Disclaimer: If I said I owned PLL and Glee, would anybody actually press charges? Probably. SO because I don't want to risk that, here it is, I DON'T OWN ANYTHING (Except for the character of John, who is mentioned by name in precisely one sentence). And I make no profit from this.**

_There now, steady love, so few come and don't go  
Will you, won't you be the one I'll always know?  
When I'm losing my control, the city spins around  
You're the only one who knows, you slow it down_

_~ The Fray, Look After You_

* * *

Emily frowns at the familiar itch of thirst in her throat, though she can't hold the expression when she hears a contented, sleepy sigh pass Quinn's lips. It's been trying and downright difficult at times, living with her girlfriend nearly 24/7, but oh how she adores the blonde who's sharing her bed. Quinn has a peaceful expression on her face, amplified by the curtain of soft hair that's fallen to curl around her chin. Tucking the blankets closer around the sleeping girl's shoulder, Emily sinks lower under the sheets, wanting to feel Quinn's warmth as close to her as possible. The more she looks upon the other girl, the more Emily sees the events of the past month playing around in her head like a movie reel.

* * *

_She hates the panic in Quinn's voice when she wakes up. The girl is freaking out and flailing her arms around, yelling for everybody to go away, to get off and leave her alone. Emily wants to cry at the sight. It's a far cry from the sexy, confident Quinn that Emily has grown to love so much. John is there immediately, whispering softly to his sister-in-law about how she's safe, and Emily wishes that she could be in there now. The police are waiting though. They need her statement._

* * *

Emily forces her body to unwind, urging the tension from her muscles. The police that Quinn's brother-in-law brought with him from the city took Russell Fabray into custody, and now here they are almost a month later and he's been sentenced to quite a heavy punishment, at least fifteen years (for what Emily isn't sure, but apparently the Fabray patriarch had been involved in more than a few unsavory activities). She finds herself grinding her teeth in rage as she remembers how scared Quinn (and Marley) had been even after Toby and Caleb had knocked Russell out and locked him in the linen closet. The blonde appeared more shaken than Emily ever imagined possible, eyes wild with fear and spilling over with relentless tears. Emily suspects that maybe this wasn't the first time Quinn had witnessed her father in a drunken rage, but perhaps it was the first time she'd experienced it without her mother.

* * *

_"Quinn, you need to talk to somebody." Emily holds the blonde close to her after yet another nightmare. "Or at least… talk to me about this."_

_ "I know I should. But I'm afraid. I don't know how he found us here." Emily coos softly into soft golden hair. She remembers Quinn saying the exact same thing that night, on the phone. "I can't keep on living like this. It isn't fair to you." The brunette pulls away slightly so that Quinn can see her eyes._

_ "It's absolutely fine, so don't you dare apologize. I love you, Quinn, and it's important to me that you feel safe. You're safe here with me. I promise." Quinn is clearly touched by the sentiment. It's almost as if Emily can see a barrier being brought down behind Quinn's eyes._

_ "Russell wasn't always violent, only when he had had too much to drink. Frannie and I learned after a while that even the slightest mistakes around him when he was drunk would cost us. It was a spanking here, a few curses there. We thought it would stop but…"_

* * *

_I don't know how he found us here._ Well of course Quinn wouldn't know. How was she to know that Russell would weasel the information from his oldest daughter who, for her part, was too exhausted from taking care of two toddlers to deflect her father's questions? Russell had kept silent for a few months after that, choosing a night when he knew Judy would be in the city. Apparently he'd hoped to catch Quinn at the house, where he was planning on convincing his favourite child to turn away from her chosen life of sin. It had been the waiting for Quinn to show up that had driven him to walk around the house. Enraged to find no pictures of himself but plenty of Quinn and Santana (along with quite a few of Quinn and numerous other girls) the man had broken into his ex-wife's liquor cabinet (reserved for special occasions only).

In any case, Quinn and Marley had been too afraid to return to the house since that Saturday night. Russell had done plenty of damage to it, and even still repairs had yet to be finished. Judy was sympathetic to their fear and brought the girls into the city until the Liars, saddened at the girls' absence, had offered their houses up as temporary homes, at least until graduation when the repairs will definitely be over with. Naturally, Emily wanted Quinn to stay with her, and Pam Fields was more than willing to keep Quinn and Judy under her roof. Pam's told them more than once that she likes having so many people in the house, especially since her husband has been sent even further away for an even longer period of time than they'd originally thought. Emily knows that her mother is finally becoming more accepting of Emily and Quinn's relationship, and now it's gotten to the point where Pam even expresses how pleasant it would be for Quinn to be a part of the family. Emily is grateful that she and her mother have managed to work things out. It would be terrible to be going through all of this without Pam's support.

* * *

All of the thinking has suddenly (and inexplicably) reminded her of her thirst. Emily slides out of the bed, taking care not to stir the blonde. She slips out of the door in silence – no need in waking anybody up for a glass of water – but the sight of light spilling into the hall from the guest room catches her eye. With a tentative hand she knocks on the door which is already open a crack. Softly she calls, "Mrs. Fabray?"

"Yes, Emily?" The older woman calls back just as softly. Emily pushes the door ajar, smiling politely at her girlfriend's mother. They'd never really gotten a chance to bond much over the course of Quinn and Emily's relationship, what with Judy always being in the city doing her job as a realtor, or babysitting her eldest child's son.

"I… I just noticed that the light was on. Are you alright?" Judy nods, but her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes and her posture looks uncomfortably rigid. Something in the older woman's movements strikes Emily, and without thinking she gently pads over to the bed. "Is there anything that I can get you?"

"No dear, I'm fine," and Judy smiles a bit more genuinely this time and maybe Emily can believe that she really is fine. But she mustn't be, because 'fine' doesn't sit stiffly in bed and stare at the wall at one in the morning.

"Okay. Goodnight Mrs. Fabray." She turns to go, slightly mortified that Quinn's mother must now think she's a nosy girl.

"Emily?" She turns back to the woman's voice. "Dear, please call me Judy." Emily breathes a sigh of relief and nods, smiling. "Emily, would you mind sitting with me for a while? I'd like to have a little talk with you." Emily is back at the bed in a flash, pulling up a chair when Judy asks her to sit. "I was surprised, at first, to learn that my Quinnie was… is, a lesbian. But I am not my ex-husband. She is my daughter no matter what. That is why I left Russell and moved Quinnie and I here to Rosewood." The brunette admires how forward the woman is. She quite likes Judy Fabray already.

"You're a good mother," she remarks. This earns a light chuckle from the older woman.

"It was a long journey for me. I had become something of an alcoholic during Quinnie's pregnancy… and I failed her then." The repentance on the once-beautiful (still beautiful, but tired) face is something that Emily is sure Quinn would appreciate seeing. "When I kicked her father out of the house and brought her back I was sure that we would be able to move past all of our troubles. But then she came out to me, crying and begging me not to hate her… and I didn't know what to do. So I turned to my husband and brought him back into our lives."

"You only did what you thought was right," Emily supplements. There were plenty of times in her life, short thought it was in comparison to Judy's, that she'd done what she thought was right, even though it had involved going back on past actions.

"I should have known better though. He had always been terrible to that Quinnie's friend Santana, and the fact that she was so bold in the face of his hatred angered him. When she told him that she was dating our little princess I thought Russell would throw the wine bottle at her. They managed to stay together for a long while, until one day they were less than cautious. He'd caught the pair of them in a… compromising situation, and with his self-righteous claims he swore that he'd not house a sinner like Quinnie for a moment longer. He told her to either break things off with Santana or move out of his house… so she told him he may as well kick her out. It was the only thing for me to do, to make the right choice the second that Russell's warped principles threatened her security. I brought my things out with me and told him to keep the house for all I cared, but he'd never see my daughter again. She and Santana broke up regardless, and last I saw her she's absolutely smitten with Quinnie's other best friend Brittany." Emily doesn't really understand why Judy is telling her these things but she takes it all in stride. The woman must just need to speak with somebody, without fear of judgement. "We stayed with Quinnie's sister over the summer, in the city, and Quinnie had a few flings with some of the girls there. She claimed that after Santana she'd never truly be able to fall in love again." Emily is a little jealous of the fact that Quinn and Santana will always be linked together, both crediting each other with being the one to open their eyes to the world outside of the closet. Now Emily is really curious as to why Judy is telling her these things. Surely her mother would be a better discussion partner? Isn't bonding over their dating gay daughters just the thing for women like them? Her train of thought is broken into pieces when she hears a hitch in the blonde woman's throat. "Is she… does she hate me?" And there it is. Judy Fabray is worried about the way her daughter sees her. And who else knows the ins and outs of Quinn Fabray's mind than the girl who's seen inside of it on more than one occasion?

"I…" Emily isn't sure she should be answering this question. She trails off for a moment, a small memory jostling other thoughts out of the way in order to earn a place at the front of her mind.

* * *

"_I was so disappointed when she sat by him saying nothing. She knew I was pregnant, I know she did. And she didn't say anything in my defence. Nothing at all," Quinn is crying, and Emily is crying too because of Quinn. "She didn't protect me then…"_

"_Shh, shh…" Emily coos, holding the blonde as she cries out all of her past disappointment. Quinn is looking up at her now with those watery, beautiful hazel eyes and smiling despite the tears on her cheeks._

"_She came through for me in the end though, Em. She pulled herself together."_

* * *

"She must hate me…" Judy's voice is melancholy. Emily shakes her head.

"No… she never hated you, Mrs. Fa-Judy. She was… upset that you turned to alcohol and said nothing about her pregnancy. But she was so happy when you came to see her perform at Regionals. And then when she moved in with you she was thankful that you'd been doing so well."

"And then I took Russell back."

"She was disappointed. But she figured that eventually you would learn that Mr. Fabray wasn't doing either of you any good. She was beyond proud of you when you left him and brought her here." Judy cries in earnest at Emily's words, something that would freak the teenager out a little if she wasn't such a sensitive person herself. The fears that Judy is voicing to her now, the questions… how long must she have been waiting to talk about this? Emily, unsure of whether or not this is inappropriate, reaches out to pat Judy's hand softly, and the older woman seems to calm down instantly at the contact.

"I must look ridiculous," she says, wiping at her blue eyes. Emily begs to differ. Judy looks more human now than she ever has. She's lovely.

"No," says the brunette. "Not ridiculous." The older woman smiles and surprises Emily when she reaches towards her for a hug.

"Thank you, Emily. I know how odd this must be, you consoling your girlfriend's mother." The blonde woman laughs at the brunette's shy smile. "You're a lovely girl, Emily. My Quinnie did well in choosing you."

"I'm the lucky one, Judy. Quinn is perfect even when she isn't. She's… well she's phenomenal." She isn't exaggerating. Emily Fields is palm-sweatingly, heart-stoppingly, undeniably in love with Lucy Quinn Fabray, and she knows that the world is reminded of it every time she mentions Quinn in a sentence.

"She loves you, you know. She really, truly loves you." Judy says, and somehow it's even more humbling when the words are coming from her girlfriend's mother. The blonde is tired now. Emily can feel it in the air. So she stands, still holding on to the older woman's hand. "Come back and speak to me again sometime, my dear. You've been such a lovely listener."

"I love her, Judy. I love you daughter so very, very much. And I would love to." And then she's gone, saying a quiet goodnight as Judy Fabray rests back on her pillow and smiles. She sleeps through the rest of the night better than she has in the past month.

* * *

"Emily?" Quinn's sleepy voice is her guiding light, bringing Emily back into her room. This is the third night that Emily has left their bed (she likes the sound of it, "their bed").

"Yes, baby? Why are you awake?"

"Where do you go when you're not with me?" Emily feels a slight bitterness at the words, as she's reminded of when Quinn used to leave the bed in the middle of the night. She can't hold on to the bitterness for very long though, as she has long since accepted that that was a very difficult time in her girlfriend's life.

"I've been talking to your mother." There's no reason to deny it or make up some insane story. Judy Fabray has made it clear that she sees Emily and Quinn making something out of their relationship, something real and adult and not at all a high school fling. She's been trying to get to know the girl who undisputedly loves her daughter. Quinn, quick-minded little minx that she is, seems to have reached this conclusion as well.

"She's been trying to get to know you?" Quinn asks, and Emily hears the hopefulness tinting the words. She moves down onto the bed, kissing the blonde who sits there underneath her sheets.

"Mhm. And I dare say she like me better than you," Emily teases. Quinn swats her lightly with her hand, bringing it to rest on her cheek.

"Well I can't blame her, I suppose. I like you better than me, too." Emily takes Quinn's hand and frowns slightly at the shorter girl.

"Don't say that." Emily kisses the hand she's holding. "Don't do that to yourself anymore, Q. You're way too amazing to be so hard on yourself all the time."

"I love you." That smile. That sincerity. Quinn is addictive, really she is, and Emily can't help but pull the other girl close and drink her in. She's pretty sure she could spend her whole life kissing Quinn, but the growing heat pooling in between her thighs at all of the blonde's breathy little gasps is getting to her.

"I love you," she says when they've both determined that to proceed any further would be to tempt Fate itself (and Pam's super-hearing). Quinn's smile is rewarding enough.

"And why is that?"

"Because you're unlike anybody else. You are the most special person to ever have walked into my life."

"Even Maya?" And then Emily remembers that they haven't really spoken about her past romantic endeavors. Quinn knows about Toby and even Ben (she nearly killed the boy in the hallway the day after she found out), but the girls… Emily knows right away that they're about to have this conversation.

"Q… come here." She takes the blonde into her arms and leans back against the headboard. "Funny how we always find ourselves jumping from one thing to the next, isn't it?" Quinn makes a little noise to show that she knows that Emily's stalling, and the brunette can't help but plant a kiss on the blonde's exposed shoulder. She really loves this girl. "Okay, okay. Are you sure you want to talk about this now?" A swift nod sends blonde hair into her eyes. "Ow… if you're sure… where to start…"

"From the beginning? In chronological order?" Quinn shoots her a smart-alecky smirk that nevertheless steals the breath from her lungs.

"Okay, smartass." She kisses the blonde once more before returning to the topic at hand. "Well… the first girl that I ever kissed was Alison." Quinn turns around as much as she can.

"Alison? DiLaurentis? The one who…Oh, Emily." When Emily nods Quinn reaches up to brush a stray hair from her girlfriend's face. Emily wonders how Quinn seems so calm right now, and almost sorry, and the realization that Quinn feels for her loss is astounding.

"Yeah… I mean, it wasn't going anywhere, and I just… I don't know. I loved her, I know I did, but she didn't want me." Quinn is silent. The simple press of the other girl's palm into her own is enough for Emily to continue. "And one year later, I met Maya. She moved into Alison's house with her family and after Ben… well, things just happened for us. And I loved her, I know I did. She was my first girlfriend… and when she was sent away to a drug rehabilitation camp I just didn't know what to do with myself. I thought I'd never date again." Quinn can obviously hear the sadness in her voice and Emily curses herself for crying. It's been almost two years and she still can't talk about Maya without crying.

"Are you alright?" Quinn asks softly. Emily nods and manages to stem the flow of tears.

"I didn't date for a while after that, just stared at Maya's house and dreamt of the day when she'd come back to me. Eventually I stopped torturing myself and tried to move on. That's when I started seeing Paige."

"Wait…" Quinn holds up a graceful hand to stop her. Oh shit. She'd forgotten. "Paige? As in Paige McCullers? Emily! She tried to drown you!" Quinn is turned around fully in her arms and her beauty even when enraged is picturesque and perfect. Emily wants to take a snapshot of the moment but she has no idea where her camera is and Quinn would probably kill her if she tried.

"She was tormented, Q. She really didn't mean to hurt me, I'm sure of it." Emily says. She knows that Paige was going through a tough time coming to grips with her sexuality, and she's long since forgiven the brunette for what happened that day at the pool. Quinn harrumphs at Emily's conviction, but settles down and twists around again, so her back is resting against the swimmer's chest. "She wasn't ready to be out yet, and I didn't want to have to hide, so we ended things and I started seeing a girl named Samara from the next town over. We broke up because of A."

"What do you mean?" Quinn asks, and she seems genuinely curious.

"A sent me a text one night while I was trying to make a good impression on Samara's friends. The text told me to make sure one of her friends left the house with my phone number, but her best friend saw me and told her. Since I was afraid to tell her about A, she broke up with me."

"That's terrible. A was really just looking to tear you down in any possible way…"

"Yeah… and then Maya came back and we had some happiness together for a while. Until A killed her." Even though Quinn was aware of this she still flinches and it's that show of vulnerability that somehow makes it okay for Emily to cry. Quinn wiggles herself out of the tan arms of her girlfriend and moves them so that she's cradling the brunette in her arms. Emily cries and she hates every second of it. It's been so long since all of this and she still hasn't shaken off the sadness. The guilt.

"Baby, it's okay… you're okay. Everything will be alright." Quinn repeats her words slowly, over and over again, until Emily starts to believe her. She notices a slow halt to the tears trickling from her eyes and is grateful for Quinn's ability to calm her down.

"It's so much harder than I thought it would be. I went through the first few months not really believing it. She couldn't be dead. But she was." Quinn stays silent an Emily is glad for the opportunity to talk without interruption. "And I thought I'd never be happy again… until you came to lunch that first time with your perfect smile and your eyes and your voice. I thought you were a very pretty girl. Then I got to know you a little and I had the biggest crush on you imaginable. I thought you were straight though, so I tried to distance myself from you." A small noise issues forth from Quinn's lips and Emily guesses that it's amusement. "When you told us all you were gay I just… I felt something I hadn't felt at all since Maya. Hope, I guess?"

"I know… I think, no, I know that I felt it too. The smile you gave me that night made me realize that I wanted to know you better," Quinn smiles into Emily's hair and the brunette cuddles in closer.

"I wasn't sure if you'd like me, you know. You seemed so sure of the kind of girl you were looking for, and I had assumed that you would pass over me. But you didn't. And when we began to date, I was so scared that you'd decide you didn't want me."

"Impossible." At this Emily leans up to drop a kiss on Quinn's cheek. The blonde is simply adorable.

"Then, when I'd fallen in love with you, I got so scared… I knew that you'd find out about A eventually, but I kept on putting it off until it rarely crossed my mind that there was something about me that you didn't know." Emily can feel Quinn nod. _Is that how she felt about Beth?_Probably. "And you were so amazing… at everything. School, athletics, being a girlfriend, loving me… I was terrified when I realized you were leaving bed in the middle of the night. I didn't know what the cause was." Quinn's arms tighten around her and Emily can practically feel the unspoken apology flooding her being.

"And now here we are."

She takes Quinn's hand as the blonde girl slides down lower, allowing them to get into a better position for sleeping. "Here we are," she echoes. They don't speak after this. They don't need to. Emily is grateful for Quinn. She loves her in ways she'd never been able to love Maya (they'd never been given the chance).

"We're graduating in a week, Emily," Quinn suddenly whispers in the darkness. The brunette turns so that they're on their sides, face to face. Frankly she's all talked out but if Quinn mentions something right as they're drifting off to sleep it means it's something that's been bothering her.

"Yeah… are you scared?" Emily asks, scooting closer to the blonde.

"No. Not of graduating, anyway." Quinn bites her lip, pressure whitening the pink flesh. "What's going to happen to us, Em? You're going to U of Michigan… I'll be at Yale."

"We'll figure it out, Q. I love you." Emily says, kissing the blonde one last time. Quinn smiles and brings them together, resting her chin at the crook of Emily's neck.

"Whatever you say. I love you." Emily soon feels the soft rise and fall of Quinn's chest against hers. The blonde is sleeping peacefully. But now Emily can't. What _is_ going to happen to them? They've been through so much already. She isn't sure that she wants to be so far from Quinn. Not after their stupid break and almost losing her. Emily resolves to fight for them no matter what. She's not going to lose Quinn Fabray. Never again.

* * *

**A/N: The closer I get to finishing this off the more I realize how badly I don't want this to end. But end it must. Before it becomes a Days of Our Lives soap-opera with one too many plot twists and secret lovers and… holy crap. That would be a nightmare for all of us.**

**SHOUTOUTS:**

**Narcissist123: Yeah, yeah call me hypocrite for mentioning a guest… actually, don't. But thank you for that, I did have a good day **

**Breyanaxo: Thank you! Always happy to know that you enjoyed it! I have an idea for a post high school fic that ultimately ends in Quinn/Emily… perhaps that'll be for you. It's very different from this though, so perhaps I'll work on a Spemily as well, cuz Spemily is fricking awesome. **

**dmpanda5: I love you for loving every chapter. In the most platonic sense, of course. Thank you for consistently sounding off on how you feel about the latest chapter, it always proves a good moment of any day when I see the review notification email. **

**Remember how I said a while back that happy is not something that lasts for very long? WELL MAYBE I LIED. Or maybe I was telling the truth? LE GASP. WHAT CAN HAPPEN IN LIKE, TWO CHAPTERS, YOU MAY ASK.? Well… don't think Kay's gonna tell you just because you ask. As always, sound off on this please, whether you are a regular visitor (shoutouts) or a silent fan, or somebody new (I loves me some new blood) (kidding). Your thoughts matter to me. Lemme know what they are!**


	10. Feelings Make it Better

**A/N: It is with a somewhat heavy heart that I present to the final chapter of Please Never Leave This Bed. Because of your overwhelmingly (that's not a hyperbole, I was surprised when it got more than 5 reviews/faves/follows so everything after that was overwhelming) good response to this story it has become what it is. So thank you. I hope that you all enjoy this. **** Ahem, CUE THE REEL OF UNRELATED-YET-RELATED FRAGMENTS THAT MAKE UP CHAPTER 10.**

**SHOUT-OUTS TO:**

**CustomHeroine: I hope that this ending is satisfactory. Thank you for sticking through to the end!**

**Breyanaxo: You are amazing! We should twitter-bomb Marlene King so that she makes Spemily happen for real. ;) I really, really hope that you enjoy this ending!**

**Disclaimer: If I was making money to do this, I'm pretty sure this version of events is what everybody would be watching their screens for on Thursday nights… and Tuesday nights… and online… If only.**

* * *

_If I could, then I would  
I'll go wherever you will go  
Way up high or down low  
I'll go wherever you will go_

_The Calling, Wherever You Will Go_

* * *

They've done it, Quinn thinks. They've survived high school relatively unscathed (is it fucked up that she thinks they're still ok after everything they've been through?) and now they're on their way out into the world. Judy Fabray is crying and cheering. Frannie and her husband and their two little monsters are cheering. Pam and Wayne Fields (Emily cried out of joy when her father walked into the door last night) are crying and cheering. Everybody's parents are crying and cheering and it's surreal and awkward and hey is that Emily running towards her?

"We did it!" The swimmer practically shouts with her lips hovering mere centimetres from Quinn's ear. Quinn normally can't stand overly loud noises in her ear (way too many flashbacks of Coach Sylvester) but since the noise is coming from Emily, the love of her life, she shrugs it off and accepts the barrage of kisses being rained down on her. Quinn welcomes the brunette's lips, seeking them out with her own hungrily. It's been difficult, living together with their mothers around. Quinn lets her teeth graze Emily's bottom lip, forgetting that there are several hundred bodies milling about and their families are literally less than ten feet away.

"Whoa there ladies, let's keep everything G rated, alright? Think about the kids." Quinn laughs, practically high off the euphoria of graduating top of the class (well, a few points behind Spencer, but that was inevitable) and the feel of Emily holding her closely.

"Oh couldn't you just leave them alone, Han?" Aria interjects softly, but even she can't resist smiling. Everybody is happy and smiling and crying and Quinn just wants to drown in the bliss of it all because they fucking made it. She notices that Emily is no longer at her side and scans the area, finding the brunette hugging her parents. She finds her own family standing beside the girl as well, heaping affection on the swimmer. Quinn quickly kisses Hanna, Spencer and Aria on the cheek and rushes to the cluster of blond and brown hair, laughing as her niece and nephew tug at the hem of her gown and ask for "uppies". She'll give them their uppies all right. She'd give (almost) anything away to (almost) anybody who asked it of her, because this is what success feels like. It feels fucking wonderful.

"Congratulations, Quinn," says Wayne warmly, holding out his arms for her to walk into. She flings herself at him, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. Ever since meeting her, Emily's dad has offered Quinn everything she'd ever wanted from her father. She's grateful for him.

"Yes, sweetheart, congratulations!" Pam says sweetly, and Quinn smiles shyly at her before the darker woman gathers her into an embrace as well. When she lets go Quinn can see happy tears (everybody's tears are happy today) in Emily's eyes and she realizes how much of a relief it must be to the taller girl that her girlfriend and her family get along so well. Things have never been so perfect and Quinn knows that this summer will be the best of her life. She wants to remember this forever. As she watches Emily laugh at something Hanna says, eyes smiling at Quinn the entire time, the blonde makes a decision.

She carefully slips out of bed that night as Emily lays on her side fast asleep.

* * *

Quinn's prediction holds until midway through July (read: 2 weeks later). After that well… she admits she never really did get all of the teenage craziness out of her system. She's terrified at the idea of she and Emily being on opposite sides of the country with Rosewood nestled slightly off-centre to the middle of them. It's this fear that makes her act up, and she knows it and often tries to control it, but it won't stay down. Take the basis of their first summer fight, for example. Paige McCullers. More specifically, the amount of time Emily's been spending with Paige McCullers. Now, Quinn's not a suspicious person, really, but she knows when things are not right. It's an intuition thing, and Quinn has always trusted in her intuition. So when it seems like Emily has been avoiding her, the blonde decides to call her out on it. Keeping things secret clearly never worked out for them.

"Are you cheating on me with her?" Quinn can see Emily shaking her head and immediately she knows that she should stop. She knows that Emily loves her, she knows, but it's hard to shake the feeling that something is wrong. The part of her brain that's trying to get the last of her craziness out of her system pushes her forward and Quinn just can't control herself.

"Of course not. We've just been down at the pool, training. Why would you think anything else?" Emily's tone is soft and Quinn wants to hate her for being such a goddamn-fucking saint all the time, but she can't. She's much too in love to do that.

"Because every single time I ask you if you want to go out or have lunch or do something with me, you tell me you can't because you have plans with Paige Don't-Forget-I-Almost-Fucking-Drowned-You McCullers!"

Emily presses the heel of her palm to her forehead (she actually does) and appears to count to ten. When she finishes, the look in her eyes is determined and exasperated and yet sexy at the same time and Quinn wonders why there's no air in the room anymore. Before the blonde can open her mouth to speak Emily's arms are wrapped around her firmly and _Oh God_ Quinn would never let anybody know this but she loves it when Emily is so… assertive. "I am." A heated kiss that leaves Quinn's knees knocking together. She can't lose her resolve, however, and she desperately attempts to hold off the lust pooling in between her thighs. "Definitely not." There's another one and now Quinn thanks every deity she knows that Emily is holding her upright. "Cheating on you." There's the exhilarating graze of teeth against her bottom lip. "With Paige McCullers." Who? "Or anybody else." Quinn can't help herself anymore. Blonde hair is curled up in tan hands while pale hands tangle themselves in chocolate locks and all Quinn is aware of is the feeling of teeth and tongues and lips melding together. "God, I love you so much Quinn."

"Not as much as I love you." The blonde really fucking hates herself right now though. She must have seemed crazy. Of course Emily would never cheat on her. Where is she even getting these ideas from? _Stupid psychotic-snake-consciousness. _That must be it. She looks up and sees a familiar glint of mischief in Emily's eyes.

"Really? Well, well, Miss Fabray, I don't know if that's true." Quinn sighs contentedly when Emily lifts her and sets her down gently on their bed (yes, their bed). "How in the world can you prove such a claim?"

Quinn slowly drags a hand down perfect abs and has to rein herself in a little bit. She quite feels like Finn (was it this hard for him not to… release?), and the thought of the awkwardly tall boy's face that once in the hot tub is enough to cool her down sufficiently. "Well…" She pulls at the strap of Emily's tank top, connecting their lips. "I was thinking we start here." She whispers in the way that always gets a shiver out of Emily. "And finish somewhere…" Trailing kisses down the darker girl's neck, Quinn's hand finds its way to the buckle of Emily's belt. "Here." Quinn silently praises the crazier half of her conscious as Emily smirks and begins lifting the hem of her shirt higher.

Hours (and quite a few highly visible love-bites) later, Quinn sneaks out of Emily's room.

* * *

They fight (and make up) quite a lot more throughout July, but their only serious confrontation lasts for two weeks, when Quinn goes home to Lima to spend time with Santana and the rest of the gang. The blonde understands how badly Emily must feel when she only mentions her plans the night before her departure, seeing as the last time Quinn went to Lima she came back to them nearly breaking up. As a result Quinn calls her girlfriend at least once a day during the second week and the relief on Emily's face when she comes home is precious. The way that Emily tugs her into her own bedroom (Judy somehow managed to get her back into the house) and locks the door is thrilling.

It's easier to roll out of her own bed than it is to roll out of Emily's. She knows which floorboards creak and which don't.

* * *

August rolls by and it's all sex and fun and being with friends and family. Spencer and Quinn will be rooming together at Yale, so Emily is slightly more relaxed at the thought of her best friend and girlfriend being so far from home. Quinn on the other hand is unsure of how to feel. She's proud of how Emily has managed to land a full swimming scholarship to the University of Michigan, but she worries that the shy girl will have difficulties adjusting. She'll be all alone. Well… fine, not alone, but Quinn knows that Paige McCullers still carries her feelings for Emily burning underneath her bangs and she doesn't trust the tall swimmer as far as she can throw her.

"It's where I want to go, Quinn." Those words fall from the brunette's mouth almost hesitatingly, and Quinn immediately knows that she has to be supportive and not say another word about it. Emily deserves to go to the school of her choice.

"Alright." Now if only that was the only thing bothering her, they'd be golden.

"What's wrong, love?" They're sitting on Quinn's roof and Emily has Quinn in her arms. Quinn revels in the safe haven that Emily's embrace creates for her in situations like this.

"Nothing's wrong." She's a bad liar, positively terrible.

"You know, I think we've moved past the poorly kept lies baby," Emily teases. This prompts a shy laugh from Quinn and she feels like a schoolgirl chatting up her first crush.

"I'm just worried is all."

"Worried? What about?" Quinn pulls the swimmer's arms around herself more tightly.

"What's going to happen to us, Em?" Emily plants a chaste kiss on Quinn's temple.

"We're going to go to school. We're going to have Skype dates on weekends and you'll visit me at the end of one month, then I'll visit you at the end of the next month."

"Baby, we're going in opposite directions… There's a distance of almost eleven hours to separate us." Quinn doesn't like the cynicism of her tone, but they need to get this all out of the way. It's been hovering over their heads since the beginning of the month, their departure from Rosewood. Distance kills quite a good number of relationships, a fact that they both know. When neither of them says anything more Quinn assumes that Emily is unwilling to talk about it. She's so deeply wrapped up in her own reflectiveness that she barely notices Emily practically nuzzling her neck, the way she always does when she's nervous or insecure about something. She's thoroughly unprepared for what comes next.

"I don't give a shit about the distance, Q, because I want to be with you for the rest of our lives." _Ohmyholyjesusfuck. _Did that just… what? "I—I'm not saying we need to get married right away, or even at all if you don't want to, but I don't want to ever lose you, Quinn. I love you more than I thought possible for a person to love anybody else. Honestly, I'm worried about how I'll do when school starts, because I know that I'll be thinking of you everywhere I go, no matter what I do." Quinn reaches for Emily's hand and clasps it in her own, brushing her thumb lightly over lovely mocha skin. "I just want you to know that as long as you want this, I will _never_ stop trying to keep what we have going."

"You don't need to try," Quinn half-whispers back. The cool air of a late summer night has begun to play with their hair, tickling Quinn as a stray strand dances across her nose. Gentle though it is, she can't help but feel like nature is slapping the two of them for being so mushy. That doesn't stop her though. "I can't think of being with anybody else. There is no after you, for me. There's only you."

"I love you."

"I love you more." Like any regular teenage couple, they spend the next few hours proving this to each other.

Quinn really likes how stealthy she's been at getting out of bed. Seriously, she's all ninja and shit.

They've only got three more nights to go before everybody shoots off to their respective colleges. Quinn knows that Emily is growing more and more anxious for leaving day, and every night for the past week she's been slipping out of bed (per Emily's request) to fetch a glass of water here and there.

"What are you so afraid of?" She doesn't know why she's asking, but Emily seems so very, very uncomfortable that she can't help it.

"Honestly, I'm afraid that I'm going to lose you. There are going to be a ton of pretty, perfect girls all waiting to get swept up in your eyes and your voice and your face and just… you." Emily says, hand resting on Quinn's hip. The blonde can barely stifle a laugh.

"You couldn't lose me if you tried, Fields," Quinn half-jokes, gratified by the goofy little grin that pops up on Emily's face. "But seriously, don't ever be afraid that you'll lose me. I told you before and I'll say it again and again, there is nothing after you. Nothing." She touches the tip of her finger to Emily's temple. "Remember that. And besides, those girls can wait around for all I care, because none of them could ever be as beautiful as you are to me. When I thought I'd have to deal with my personal problems all alone you were there and you showed me exactly who you are. I fell even deeper in love with you. You are perfect, Emily." Emily pecks her quickly on the lips before bringing them to Quinn's forehead. It's a sweet gesture, one that Emily has taken to doing when Quinn says something of which she is particularly fond.

Quinn waits for Emily to fall asleep later that night before rolling off the mattress.

* * *

This is it. They're leaving. It's actually happening. "Ready to go yet, roomie?" Spencer asks cheerfully. She's probably the most excited to get out of here. Quinn understands; she's seen how Spencer lives, virtually alone even though her parents are still together and living in the same house. Quinn has something for Emily.

"Almost. Just… just give me a minute." She's been looking for Pam Fields for the past twenty minutes. Well, not really for Pam herself. Quinn's been tracking down Emily's suitcase for the past twenty minutes. Ah, there it is. With a little help from Hanna (not that the other blonde is actually aware that she's helping by distracting Emily's parents with her dramatic monologue about how much she'll miss everybody) Quinn manages to slip her gift into the bulky thing. She knows that Emily will unpack that particular case last. At least, she's hoping that's what will happen. "Okay! Spence, let's go!" Spencer releases herself from Hanna and Aria's combined death grip, promising that she and Quinn will call as soon as they're all set up. Emily and Quinn share a kiss, their last until Christmas – Making the 10 hour, 45 minute drive isn't the best idea, they realize – and say their goodbyes. Emily is confused by the wolfish grin on Quinn's face but says nothing, though she wears an oddly pained expression that her girlfriend doesn't notice. Quinn giggles when Emily struggles with her suitcase, knowing that the brunette doesn't notice the barely-there weight of her addition to the swimmer's possessions.

The rest of the day is torturous, with her and Spencer driving exactly 2.5 hours each – they only took the Highlander seeing as Judy will be bringing up Quinn's Mazda5 in a week – and as soon as they've chosen a parking space that's relatively close to the building the unpacking begins. Luckily they've been placed on the second floor, so it isn't _too_ difficult to get all of their boxes and things up. Still, it proves to be taxing work and Quinn rubs her back frequently as she and Spencer decide how to split up the space. The relief on both of their faces is obvious as they begin to get the big decisions, such as who gets which side of the room and if their desks should be placed together or separately, out of the way. It's almost nine in the evening when they find an arrangement that's both practical and aesthetically pleasing, and they're too lazy to lug themselves all the way to the dining hall. They've not yet started to make the dorm feel homey, but who the hell can do that when their stomach is threatening to swallow the next small child that walks past.

"I think I still have a peanut butter sandwich in my bag, want to split it?" Spencer asks, though Quinn knows she'll get half of that sandwich anyway. She has an orange that they can share afterwards, so it isn't as if she's mooching off of the other girl.

"Sure." They eat in comfortable silence, thankful that even half of a sandwich is fairly substantial. "Oh, right, I have an orange, here." She hands it to Spencer to peel. The other girl is much better at peeling than she is. Quinn takes half of the naked fruit and smiles as they finish off the rest of their meagre dinner.

"Everybody else is probably settled in, yeah?" Quinn shrugs, wondering the same thing. Hanna is probably settled in at FIT (Fashion Institute of Technology) already, since she's been blowing up their phones for the better part of the last hour. Aria is definitely done with her room at Hollis, as she sent over a few pictures of herself and a girl dressed (almost) as eccentrically standing in the middle of a nice dorm. Was Emily doing alright at U of Michigan? Quinn resists the urge to call her girlfriend. She wants Emily to call her first, and the other girl will definitely do that when she finds the gift Quinn snuck into her suitcase.

Emily doesn't call that night, or the next. She doesn't call until the Saturday after classes begin in full swing.

* * *

"How did you do all this?" Emily's smiling face is filling up Quinn's screen and Quinn wants so badly for them to be face-to-face in person.

"A lot of sleepless nights." She replies, sipping at the coffee that Spencer had been kind enough to make for her before leaving for her morning jog. Emily is holding up her gift as she goes through it, smiling wider and wider at the turn of every page. It's probably the only album that Quinn has ever made in her life, and she knows that it's definitely going to be the best album she'll ever make. Pictures from their summer are surrounded by handwritten quotes from Emily's favourite books, movies, songs, whatever, and all decorated (painstakingly slow work) by hand.

"This is what you kept on leaving our bed for then, isn't it?" Quinn can feel herself freeze up. She could have sworn that Emily didn't know she was sneaking out of bed to make that album.

"How did you know?"

"Well I _did_ notice you leaving, baby. You know I like cuddling with you." Emily sticks her tongue out as Quinn palms her forehead (she blames Emily for this behaviour) and sighs jokingly.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Quinn knows how Emily feels about her leaving the bed when she thinks the brunette is sleeping. The first time it happened started them down the path to a nasty breakup.

"I figured that you deserved more trust than I seemed to be giving you," Emily says honestly, causing the blonde's chest to swell with some a pleasantly warm tingling. "And besides, you always came back happy, even though you seemed tired, and since I couldn't smell anybody's perfume on you I decided to let it go." Quinn genuinely laughs at that.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it." Emily's smile is contagious, she swears, and when it's replaced by an "o" shape Quinn can't hold back her laughter again. "What is this?" She holds the album to her camera so that the blonde can see the page that Emily's been staring at for a good three minutes now.

"It's a picture of our beds photo-shopped, quite skillfully if I don't say so myself, together to look like one huge bed." Emily harrumphs in mock-impatience. "It's a metaphor." Quinn supplies.

"Oh? Care to explain?" Emily's eyes are sparkling even through the questionable camera-quality and Quinn really just wants to kiss the girl senseless.

"All this summer we've called both of those beds 'ours'," she starts. "And it got me thinking…" She stops for a moment, trying to think up a way to say what she wants to without sounding like a complete and total sap. When about a minute of silence and sipping at her water does nothing, Quinn gives up and starts talking. "These past months have been a bit strenuous to our relationship. It started because I stupidly didn't tell you about Beth. She's my biological daughter and I was distraught over the fact that she'd recently been involved in a car accident which also involved her adoptive mom Shelby, as well as Shelby's biological daughter, my best friend Rachel. I left our bed in the middle of the night, thinking you wouldn't notice, but you did. Then I was called back to Lima by another of my best friends, Santana, because Beth wasn't responding so well to her doctors, even though her injuries were not life-threatening." Quinn pauses for breath and she sees herself in the smaller window, liquid gathering at the corners of her eyes. Emily watches her carefully, silently. "I left you in bed alone and left a short note on your bedside table. I promised I would call but didn't. You called me and I was with Rachel, who'd just woken up from a week-long coma. I was tired and irritable, but that is no excuse for how tersely I spoke to you. I apologized through a text and said I would be home soon.

"You were patient with me and didn't rush me to come back home. Then, when I was due to come home the next morning or so, you overheard a conversation I'd been having with Santana. From what you'd heard, it sounded as if I was cheating on my long-time girlfriend Beth with you and she'd found out, or something to that effect. I texted you and you rightly insinuated that I didn't trust you enough to tell you about the important things in my life. I tried my hardest to reach you, but you didn't answer my calls and only responded to my texts later in the day. You said that you didn't hate me, but that you didn't know how I could say that I loved you in that moment. That stayed with me up until now, Em, because you should always know that I love you.

"I drove home the next day and we talked. You were the best listener I'd ever spoken to, Em. You didn't yell at me the way I was so scared you would, and you told me when I was done that if anything, you could only love me more for what I'd been through. Then you nearly tore me apart. You told me that you thought it would be best to take a break. I thought that maybe you were right, since I'd begun to suspect that maybe you were hiding something from me too." Quinn sees Emily hang her head a bit and wishes that she could be there in Emily's dorm room, tilting up the darker girl's chin so that she has to look straight into Quinn's eyes as she speaks.

"We didn't speak to each other, or have any contact at all, for fourteen days. Two full weeks. I thought I was going to go crazy without you. I kept on holding on to the fact that you said you didn't want to break up. You would often glance my way with a loving smile on your face. It made me hurt to have to look away from you. You stormed up my lawn on the fifteenth day. Thought that I was cheating on you with Rachel's protégé Marley, who I was only helping in her battle with bulimia and poor body-image. I took you to our back-garden and you kissed me. But I wasn't quite ready to be with you again, even though I wanted nothing else. So I asked you to leave. And you did.

"Spencer, Hanna, and Aria told me about your past. About how some insane girl essentially stalked you and made your lives completely miserable for about a year. I was so overcome with how I could have lost you before even finding you that I didn't ask any explanations of you when you entered Spence's barn, all confused and adorable. I just held you to me and took in how you smelled, how you felt, how much I loved you. We were back together for real and I was over the moon with ecstasy.

"My father ambushed Marley and I at my house five days after you agreed to let us be in love again." Quinn shakes uncontrollably at the memory. "I called you and you came to my rescue with the girls, Toby, and Caleb. I was so, so terrified, but when you were there holding me I felt like nothing could touch us. I fainted and was hospitalized, and once I got out of there I moved in with you and your mom because I couldn't be at my house. The repairs were going to take a while and I didn't feel safe there anyway.

"You spent a few nights out of bed for a while, getting to know my mother and letting her get to know you. I was so happy when you told me that. Then you cradled me in your arms and told me all about your past romances… and I was so proud that you felt comfortable enough with me to share everything with me. You cried over Maya, your first love, and then I was holding you because that was what you needed. We talked through your tears, and when you started telling me about how you slowly fell in love with me, I wanted to do a stupid happy dance or something, because you loved me and I loved you so, so much.

"I know that I hurt you. I hurt you when I kept on getting out of bed during the aftermath of Shelby's accident. And I will try my best to make sure that you _never_ feel that way because of me again. Because I love you. And that picture of those two beds as one is a symbol of how I feel about you. We're going to schools that are almost eleven hours away from each other. We'll be together again over the summer, but until then we'll only have fleeting moments during Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's. In the meantime your swim competitions will take you all over the country, sometimes closer to me but sometimes further. You may even leave the States for bigger competitions.

"They say that home is where the heart is, Emily, and my heart is always with you, stupid though that may sound. That bed, _our bed,_ is my home. No matter where I am, that will always be what tethers me to you." Quinn holds up a similar picture to the one in Emily's album. "This is for us, only for us, and as long as we have this we'll know that what we share makes distance meaningless, and that we are loved." Her voice hurts from that long-ass speech and it's worrying how Emily isn't saying anything and oops… is Emily crying?

She is. "Wow…" The brunette sniffles a little and wipes her eyes. "I would have settled for you saying that the bed was a metaphor for how much you're going to miss cuddling with me every night." Quinn laughs.

"That too."

"God, I wish I could kiss you right now." Emily pouts. _My girlfriend is such a hottie. _Quinn nods her agreement, frustrated with the fact that they're so far from each other. "You're the most romantic person I know. I love you."

"I love you more," Quinn teases, and she just watches Emily's giggle. "Shit, I have to go soon, baby. Bye, call you later!" Emily blows her a kiss and signs out, leaving Quinn facing the background of her laptop. She's got an arm around Emily's waist while the brunette is planting a kiss on her cheek. _Only a few more months until Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving. _Bzzt. Bzzt. Quinn stares down at her phone. It's a picture message from Emily. She opens it and smiles. There's their bed.

_**I love you so much more than I can put into words. Please never leave this bed, Quinn.**_

* * *

**A/N: I started out wanting to throw you guys a curve ball and have the girls break up or something, but I couldn't do it. We're done here now, my friends. I just wanted to take this time to thank you (if you're bored, you can skip on down to that review button ;) ha ha) all for coming on this journey with me, my first completed fanfic since… God, can't even remember. Thank you so much to everybody who followed and/or favourite this story and/or me. A special thank you to everybody who took the time to review, fellow member or not.**

**Please, even if you've never done so before, review and let me know your thoughts. If you're new to this and have just read through it all, don't be shy either. I will continue to take into account how people have received this story, and will use any and all reviews as a source of both inspiration and development as a writer. I would also like to take the time to thank two reviewers who really stood out to me throughout the course of this story dmpanda5 (missed ya last chapter but I couldn't wait to post this!) and Breyanaxo. You guys rock!**

**Don't think that because this is over, I'm going to disappear for a while. I'm just getting started. I would like to introduce to you, a segment from a new Quinnily (I'll call them that until somebody comes up with something better) that I'm writing. Not a part of the same 'verse as PNLTB. This is completely separate and completely AU. Romantic comedy (hopefully) for those of you who're into that, and tentatively dedicated to Breyanaxo. This isn't the last you've seen of Kay, I promise! Oh, and follow LazyWriterGirl on Twitter if you want to talk fics/prompts/or just want to chat! Buh-bye for now!**

* * *

Emily Fields is not unhappy with her life. Sure, she had been rendered incapable of competing in the 2008 Beijing Olympics due to a stupid injury that ruined her swimming career altogether. Yes, Her fiancée – ex-fiancée, sorry – had skipped town with a hunky thirty-something year-old who'd offered her wealth and security. Sadly it was true that she'd believed she had managed to find a job in New York City, only to be swindled out of half of her savings in a clever scam. Fate really screwed her on that deal.

While all of that is truly soul-crushing, Emily isn't without hope. She has never been a highly negative person. She just wasn't born that way. So Emily Fields is doing what she always does. Moving on. Her attitude has currently led her to do her best at a job handed to her by her roommate. She is a waitress – correction, server – at one of the most popular low-key restaurants in the city. Considering the number of famous people who pass through the doors on a nightly basis in comparison to the number of similarly-low-key-yet-still-elegant-enough-for-the -rich establishments for which the city is famous, that's saying something. La Vie is a lovely outfit with a lovely staff and the loveliest manager any business could ask for. It definitely helps that the manager's god-son, Sam Evans, has been Emily's best friend since they could walk. He works with her almost every night (La Vie is closed on Sundays, she never works Mondays, he never works Tuesdays) and is a kindly young man with very blond hair and very pouty, pink lips. The two are close, demonstrated in the past when Emily had come to him when she'd first began to suspect the truth about her sexuality. In partial thanks to Sam's patience and supportive attitude, she had been able to accept and love herself. She is grateful to Sam, eternally so, and has made it her life's mission to see him fight for his dreams. She knows she will do anything to help him become the musical artist he has worked so hard to become.

On the other hand, Sam Evans loves Emily Fields. Not in a romantic, let's-marry-each-other-and-have-blond-and-tan-babi es way, but in a platonic, you-are-my-very-best-friend-and-I-care-about-you way. He's happy when she is. He becomes angry to see her sad. Sam cares for his best friend so much that he prides himself on being able to help her with her problems. After Emily had been left by the woman she wanted to marry for a married real estate agent, he'd been there to pick up the pieces. And now here they are three years later and Emily hasn't dated anybody again. Like, at all. Sam often looks over at his best friend taking a couple's order down or refilling their wine glasses and he feels a sadness sweep through him. He's decided that he'll wait until Emily shows an interest in somebody again. Once that happens he'll do everything in his power to get them together (unless of course, the woman doesn't like other women, in which case Emily would be understanding and not push for something to happen).

Yes, Sam knows he isn't the most intelligent young man in New York City. Not by a long-shot. But he also knows that he is good-looking, kind-hearted, and that his best friend (and roommate) means more to him than anything. Emily is a beautiful, _beautiful_ woman. She is kind and smart, and willing to look past all of the disappointments life has thrown her way, just so that others will never have to see a frown on her face. He _will_ help Emily find love again. He'll make sure that she has somebody to be happy with.

**SEE YOU LATER GUYS :) **


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